Until Someone Called Me 'Mommy'
by KNeu21
Summary: A short story describing Leandra's early life, in her mother's point of view. How did things go so wrong for our favorite hot-headed nine-year-old? COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**A few opening notes:  
>1) This is a prequel story. Set way before Beneath the TwilightThe Gift of Misfortune.  
>2) Originally meant as a one-shot, the chapters of this story will be short. Much shorter than my normal chapters.<br>3) As mentioned in (1), this is a prequel story, so there will be very little of the Cullens in it. I know that's what we all come to see, but this little background piece has been brewing for awhile now, and won't leave me alone.  
>4) For those who are familiar with my stories, it involves Jack, so it's gotta be rated 'M'. Each chapter that I consider particularly cringe-worthy, I'll place a nice little <span>ImPORTANT NOTE<span> at the top of.  
>5) For those who are not familiar with my stories, I highly suggest going back and starting at 'Beneath the Twilight - Re-Vamped'. (Re-Vamped is the edited version) It's highly informative, and provides a good bit of reading fun as you progress through the stories. :)<br>I think that's all of them.  
>Just in case there's more of the Cullens than I currently plan, here's a nice, big:<br>DiSCLAIMER! I don't own anything you recognize as SM's handy-work. Majority of the characters you'll see in this story do belong to me and most, I do want to slap unconscious in a fit of rage, but the Cullens do not belong to me in any way.  
>Yada, blah, blah, yada, yada, blah.<br>Now onto the good stuff. Here we go.**

**Chapter One**

I never knew a small, harmless plastic stick could ever make someone feel so scared.

I never expected the fear, the heart-stopping sight of two little lines on said stick to make everything change so quickly. I felt oddly like the floor had just dropped out from under me. A sick sort of dizzying feeling, that made me suspect the world had stopped turning.

Biting my fingernail, I reached out to it. Carefully, as if it would bite me if I moved too quickly. I shook, literally trembled as I looked it over. How could this have happened? We were so careful. We were always so careful.

I wasn't stupid. I liked to consider myself far from it, but I'd been denying this whole time the fact that it could even be a possibility. Most happily married women would be hopeful, begging for this sort of outcome.

Me? I was the opposite. I did everything I possibly could to avoid this from happening. So how on Earth was this happening now?

"Shit." I whispered to myself, suddenly remembering as my eyes closed in what nearly felt like despair, "My birthday." And that little party. We'd both had one too many glasses of wine, and threw our caution to the wind. Happy birthday to me. Twenty-one, and now this.

Sighing heavily, I lightly tapped my forehead against the wall.

I wasn't worried because I thought Chris, my husband, would be disappointed or angry. He would be overjoyed. This was something he'd wanted for awhile now, to start our little family. After being married for a little over two years, and only moving into this three bedroom house just six months prior, he was more than ready for a family. Despite our age.

Chris was a very loving man. I was very lucky the moment I found him. He was the kind of guy that people flocked to. Always so positive, and he never failed to give someone a compliment. Almost never in a bad mood.

I knew without a single doubt in my mind that he would be a wonderful father. Unlike me, Chris had grown up in a very wonderful family. Being the middle child never bothered Chris, or so he said.

Chris' father was a very warm person as well, who'd raised his three sons all on his own after his wife's unfortunate passing when Chris was just a kid. Chris' father had never remarried, but that didn't stop him from teaching his sons to respect women. That was one of the things I loved most about him.

It was me I was worried about.

I was never one to truly consider being gentle. I was never afraid to speak my mind, and if it came down to it, I'd take the shine right off someone's teeth. People were drawn to me too, but it wasn't for my sparkling personality. They were drawn to me in another way.

I wasn't bad looking myself, and I'd always had to fight to protect myself. My line of work didn't particularly promise shelter from those that felt they had to open their mouth, or let their hand wander where it shouldn't.

I used to be a waitress at a small cafe in a town nearby, and had been for a few years when I met Chris at eighteen. Just trying to get by. Toughening when I had to, because my soft appearance didn't offer me much protection against those regulars, and an occasional trucker every so often. I was considered small. I was pretty in a very soft, fragile sort of way.

I'd never wanted kids, and bringing myself back to the present, the two small lines on the stick I held in my hand worried me. Whether or not I wanted children, it was happening.

I was worried because I honestly had no idea how on Earth I would ever be a good mother. My family wasn't worth a hill of beans, and hadn't grown up in a particularly loving environment. My father was worthless, but my mother tried. She tried to keep my brother and I out of it, but there was only so much she could do for us.

My older brother had his own family to worry about. One niece and a nephew I'd never met. His wife didn't like me very much, which led to very little contact with my brother.

Chris and I had agreed to wait for a few years, to give me time to come to terms with the idea of having children. Little ones of my own. Well, my time was suddenly up. Thanks entirely to having a sip too much, and letting that get the better of my head.

The thought of having a little baby looking up at me in nine months was enough to make my nervousness restart the usual morning throw-up. Sleepless nights, millions of diapers. Crying all night, the fear of never knowing.

The worry I instantly had over her the second I knew she was in there.

It was a feeling I'd had all week, but something I'd denied until I couldn't anymore. I gave in this morning, and headed for the general store. It wasn't a very long trip into town. Walking wasn't something I was allergic to. I liked to walk, and take in the beautiful scenery around me. I'd always loved Washington, with it's lush green life every which way you looked.

I pondered all day how I was going to tell Chris when he got home from work. Pacing, and nibbling on some crackers. Oh god, there really wasn't any good way to tell him. I left the stick in the bathroom, stepping back into the bedroom.

There was so much around the house that needed done. The small pile of dishes from the night before really needed cleaning, but they would wait. The floor needed vacuumed, but that would wait. I hadn't even thought about dinner that night, but that would wait. The possibilities wouldn't wait. The tears, the worry. The fear wouldn't wait.

I sat down on the bed, and I started to cry. I was so afraid. Suddenly so fear stricken, I actually considered calling Chris at work. Something I'd never done. I just didn't want to be alone, but I knew it would wait. We needed all the time he had at work. He worked so hard to make ends meet, just so I wouldn't have to work at the cafe anymore. He relentlessly provided for me, and I worried about what this would do to his job.

I began questioning every decision I ever made. Every move I made that could potentially be bad. Hardly without knowing, I went over everything I did in my life, wondering if it could potentially harm her now.

I paced again as he came through the door, sighing and chuckling a little as he did so. I made my way out of the bedroom where I'd been wearing a hole in the carpet, unsure. Hesitant.

"That rain never lets up, does it?" Chris shook his head, hanging his jacket up, "Hi, baby." He stepped in, kissing me lightly before heading passed me toward the bedroom. Where I'd just passed hours in a calm sort of panic.

"Uh.." I mumbled, "Chris, there's something I have to tell you." I turned slowly, almost numbly, and followed him.

"Same here." He grinned at me, and I couldn't help laughing a little. He was always so cute when he smiled like that, "You might not like it, but I promise it's a good thing."

"Uhm.." I sighed, "You first."

"Okay." He said, laughing a little, "Well, you know how I've been asking for extra time at work?" I nodded a little, "Well, they finally gave in. I now work Fridays and Saturdays, because Paul quit. I'm taking his hours." Well, that's the extra income we're going to need.

"That's great, Chris." I smiled a little, "Really."

"Isn't it?" He chuckled as he sat down on the side of the bed, "I know that just means I'll be away more often, but really. We could use it."

"More than you know." I mumbled, biting my nail again. Seeing the worried look on my face, he paused in his quest to remove his boot, reading my expression like an open book.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, "Were you still sick this morning?"

"That's.." I sighed, "Sort of what I wanted to tell you."

He sighed as well, "It's food poisoning, isn't it? That's it. We're never eating at that taco place again." He shook his head, turning, "I'm telling you, we should sue. Any place that makes someone that sick shouldn't be allowed to sell food."

"Chris.." I mumbled, but he continued.

"And it wasn't even that good." He said incredulously, "Seriously."

"Christopher.." I mumbled again.

"My boot would taste better." He shook his head again, "I'll make calls in the mor-"

"I'm pregnant." I blurted, and he suddenly shut up. I couldn't help laughing a little at the look on his face as he finished his word breathlessly.

"-Ning.."

If you've ever seen a deer caught in the beams of a car's headlights, you'd know how he looked right then. Frozen, speechless. I don't think I even saw him breathe. In a way, it honestly looked like I'd hit him. I wondered briefly if that was the way I'd looked after just finding out.

Just as I'd figured, he wasn't angry. Not in the least. He was shocked, for sure, but he wasn't upset. He was just having a hard time believing what I said.

"What?" He asked, "A uh.. You're.. Y-You're, what?"

"Pregnant." I repeated, nodding. Though I was sure he'd heard me the first time.

"Oh." He muttered, "That's what I thought you said." His voice was so quiet, I had trouble hearing him. It took him a minute. He was obviously going over the days in his head, same as I did. I stepped over, crawling onto the bed, and kneeling behind him. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I leaned over and kissed his cheek. I sighed, resting my chin on his shoulder.

"H-How..?"

"My birthday." I murmured in response, "Remember? Remember when you told me, 'Oh, don't worry. Just this once won't hurt.'"

He laughed a little, turning his head and looking at me, "Honestly, no." We both laughed at that one. We both knew he did, but I figured I'd play along.

"Well.." I said, "That 'just once won't hurt' will really hurt in nine months, Chris."

That seemed to do it, making him turn, and take me in his arms. Laughing along with me as he laid us down onto our side, cuddling me to him. Kissing me softly, I couldn't help smiling.

He was always so gentle with me, but I saw the difference in his eyes the moment I told him that we had become three. The soft, easy way he held me now was so different somehow than the usual way he held me to him.

Looking into my eyes, he reached up and softly smoothed my hair from my cheek, like he somehow admired me for this life-changing accident. Of course, I'd never mention that 'A' word out loud, but that's essentially what this was. This was a 'not meant to happen for a long, long time' sort of situation.

He pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead.

"Chris, I'm so worried." I admitted, "What if it's too soon?" I tucked my head under his chin with a sigh. Loving the way just him holding me comforted me. I knew I could express my worries to him without him getting upset with me. This was one worry he understood. He knew why I worried so much, what with the way I was raised.

"It's too soon." I repeated, "We're just kids ourselves."

"It's not too soon, Gina." He told me comfortingly, "Just imagine. Picture that little baby girl looking up at you. She'll be.." He sighed, hugging me closer, "So beautiful. Just like her mama."

"Oh, it's a girl?" I asked, laughing, "Good to know."

"It's a girl." He said positively, "You'll see." He reached up, softly cupping my cheek, "She's going to be beautiful, and she's loved. So much already." Somehow, his confidence helped ease my own nerves. He seemed so sure, so completely calm about this. It was true, I'd also been considering the baby a girl the entire time I knew about her in there.

"I know you'll be a wonderful mother." He told me, "I know it. I've known it from the moment I fell in love with you. You've got no reason to worry. You know why? Because she'll have you, and she'll have me, and nothing in the world will ever change that. So what if we're young? That just means we'll get to have more before we're old and fat."

I had to laugh, "Chris, let's just get through this one first."

The first ultrasound, of her just the size of a bean, really made it feel so real. Like something more than a dream. Like the forceful slap of reality, but it didn't hurt. Seeing the little baby we'd made, though accidental but definitely meant to be, made accepting this so much easier. Instantaneous.

Boy or girl, he or she would be welcomed warmly. He or she was doing great, though it was still very early, but it was never too early to go over names. What were we going to name this unplanned, though still eagerly anticipated little human being?

Once the news was out to Chris' family, the gift cards and checks started pouring in. Chris actually had to call his brothers and tell them to knock it off. We appreciated their gestures, and the money they had sent would come in great handy with the big expenses as we prepared the baby's room, we actually did have a lot saved up.

I had a feeling his brothers we vying for a naming-after, but we'd already chosen names. Hesitantly settling on Anthony Vincent for a boy. It had a ring to it that I liked, and Anthony was his father's name.

As for a girl, I chose the name Leandra after my aunt- My mother's sister. I didn't get to spend much time with her, much at all, but the time I did spend with her I remembered fondly. She was such a strong person, I remembered of her, and her name fit her. I chose Lynne for a middle name after my own mother, because if it wasn't for her pushing us along, my brother and I would never have made it out of that house alive.

Chris voted on the names Gabriella or Cassandra, but I immediately stomped out that dream. I didn't want anything too girly. I'd always considered my own name, Regina, too girly. 'Leandra' was about the only name ending with 'A' I was willing to consider.

I also argued that he got to choose the boy names, so he relented.

And it turned out that Chris was right. She was a girl. Leandra, it was. It was a fairly big surprise to me, considering he came from a family of only boys. His older brother had a son. Not a girl in the bunch, but Chris had given me a daughter. I even asked the nurse to check the ultrasound again. Maybe from a different angle.

She just laughed, and confirmed. Those parts were definitely female, though even I had to admit that it was hard to tell from the little black and white blobs on the image.

Though we hadn't even met her yet, we both knew that she would be beautiful. I had dreams, nightly, of meeting her. Of seeing her face. Laying awake in bed those nights, the soft rain rhythmically hitting the roof and every time she'd move, kicking me or nudging me, I'd smile.

Each doctor's visit, each check up, she was doing even better than the couple of weeks before. She'd gotten bigger. Stronger, confirmed by her loving movements in my stomach. I grew to love my baby girl.

Especially with how supportive Chris was.

Even toward the final months. The aching, the soreness. Sleepless, grumpy, and generally very irritable. He was there through those times, even when I couldn't stand seeing his face. When his presence alone was enough to make me want him to sleep outside.

It was very odd to me, but it must have been a hormonal, end-of-the-pregnancy thing. Some primal instinct, wanting to toss the male out of the cave in an attempt to protect the offspring. It would have been amusing, had the sound of him breathing not irritated the living hell out of me.

One night, I laid awake, waiting for her nightly movements, when they didn't come. She was still. I'd begun to worry. Was something wrong? Maybe she was mad at me because I didn't have that big of an appetite that night, and had gone to bed early. Maybe she'd just decided to sleep instead of kick-box my bladder?

Tossing and turning, trying to find a position that didn't hurt. The cramping pain that I really should have paid more attention to, but didn't because I was able to ignore it until now.

Then I understood. With a gasp, I reached over and grabbed Chris' arm as he slept beside me. The entire evening, I'd passed this feeling off as maybe gas, or my normal aches. Thinking I just hadn't felt that well, but no. Her stillness told me, somehow, that she had decided that she wasn't going to wait until July 28th. I just knew.

She was ready now. Two weeks, to the day, early.

I'd always remember how thankful I was that Chris was home that night. I no longer felt irritated at his presence, but comforted that my male hadn't run off at my hostile nature. I was so scared, and as always, he held my hand, making things okay. He was there beside me the entire time, fearlessly helping me to the car. Supporting me, making sure I made it safely.

The day, or night, had finally come when we'd finally meet her. Our baby girl.

For her being my first baby, it sure didn't take me long to bring her out. The rain rolled down outside the hospital window, and roughly five hours after getting to the hospital, I'd done my job.

Seven pounds, fourteen ounces. Eighteen inches long. She was gorgeous. Naturally, as soon as I heard her cry, I cried. Just the night before, she was kicking me in the stomach. Just three nights ago, she'd tested my physical boundaries. Pushing out, stretching for more room which I couldn't give her, and now here she was. Being placed into my arms, still whimpering up at me.

I suddenly forgot all about the pain, the discomfort. Roughly nine months of sharing such a small space with someone. I forgot about all the worries, all the nervousness, looking into the tiny, beautiful face of my brand new daughter, I felt like all of that was all over nothing. Just nine months. I'd made this beautiful face. These fingers, these toes.

I looked up, meeting Chris' eyes as he stood beside me, and I laughed a little, noticing that he was crying as well.

The first time he held her, just moments after she was born, I swear to this day that he sobbed, but he denies it. She'd taken her first breath on July 14th at three-twenty-four in the morning, and she was amazing.

Fast forward a year, too many sleepless nights to count, and thousands of diapers, and she was just as spirited as her father. Wavy dark auburn hair, and clear green eyes. Both taken from him as well. All the fear and uncertainty. All the moments when she would cry, and I'd have no idea what was wrong. Holding her, rocking her in my arms. Praying she wasn't dying of some unknown baby disease.

The intense ache of relief when she'd finally stop crying in my arms, and settle off to sleep.

I loved everything about her. Her giggle, her hair. Her toes, fingers, and her little nose. Her gorgeous, big green eyes. She was everything I'd ever hoped for, and I loved my daughter with every fiber of my being. Her personality, despite how others may doubt her having one at that age. I loved her so much, and I would give my life for this beautiful little girl in my arms.

She was so bright, so very beautiful. Soft and warm.

Chris, as I'd known all along, was a very wonderful father. The sight of him holding his daughter never ceased to amaze me. Here she was, this now year old little baby, and there he was. A grown man smiling at her as if she'd given him all he'd ever wanted. Just by smiling up at him.

Not only did she look like the spitting image of Chris, but part of me began to see how she preferred him most of the time. As soon as she was old enough to notice, she fussed more often than not with me. She'd go to him, and she would be happy as a clam. It was interesting to watch, but it never failed. She was a daddy's girl.

I knew it was nothing personal. I'd read somewhere that sometimes babies responded better to a deeper tone of voice, or the smell of cologne instead of perfume. Most of the time, it was the other way around, but sometimes, an odd one would come about. Their senses were still developing, so what they liked was what they liked.

Through each milestone she hurdled like a pro, rolling over, sitting up, crawling, her first unsteady steps, the different food stages, she gained more of my admiration. She was getting so big, so fast.

A year and a half, two years old, toddling around the house.

She'd wind up landing at Chris, laughing and giggling when he'd lift her. When he was gone during the day, she'd always go to me, but when he was home, it wasn't often I got time with my baby girl.

She was healthy, confirmed by the doctor at her latest appointment, and she was happy. Growing so fast, I could hardly believe it. Two years had gone by, and it still very much seemed like I'd only yesterday found out I was pregnant with her. I knew that would never go away.

Once she started talking, she picked it up and ran with it. Even before she knew words, she gave her opinions. She wanted to be heard, and there was nobody she wouldn't give a good talking-to.

Chris had begun to take her places as soon as she was old enough. He'd started taking her to the park as early as six, seven months, which I somehow strongly believed was the reason behind her expressive nature. She had so much to talk about.

It wasn't so much to play back then, but to give me a break. At first, I appreciated this time to myself. Just to unwind, maybe get a little cleaning done or a small nap in.

He loved her more than his own life, but for the oddest reasons, lately I'd begun to feel like I was only in the way. Like he was using Leandra as an excuse to avoid me. It was a suspicion that slowly grew bigger.

After her second birthday, things began to change.

After her second birthday came the not so fun milestones. Childproofing _every_thing. Touching things she didn't need to be touching. Playing with things she didn't need to be playing with. Knowing the difference between the two, but completely ignoring the rules I'd set for her. She was so smart, so bright that there was no way she didn't know what she was doing.

Testing my patience day in, day out. Stubbornness, hard-headedness, even a little sassiness thrown into the mix. Tantrums, just to get her way.

Climbing out of her crib at night, which was dangerous in itself, but while I wasn't there to watch what she got into. Climbing the cabinets in search of the cookies on top of the refrigerator. Making herself a 'sammich' without me there to watch her.

Switching the crib for a big-girl bed only seemed to make that ten times worse, but at least I didn't need to worry about her falling and breaking her neck on her way out of the crib.

Potty training went fairly well, I had to admit, but that was an ongoing process. Sometimes she told me, sometimes she chose not to. It all depended on her mood that day. We'd just begun the second week.

The words, "Leandra, don't touch that, don't lick that, don't eat that, don't do that, put that down, get down from there" and more seemed to be repeated. Several times. Every. Single. Day.

My two year old was a selectively-hearing little tornado of activity. With very little, to no help at all from Chris. I felt the entire weight of keeping our child alive, or at very least from doing stupid shit, on my own shoulders, all with the most annoying shows and videos on constant repeat, just to keep her from melting down. She wouldn't watch but ten minutes of the damn thing, but dare I turn it off?

To make matters worse, Chris would immediately take her to the park instead of staying home with me, and he'd stay there for hours. He'd focus all of his free time on her, when I needed attention as well. I did appreciate the child-free time, but not at the expense of time with my husband.

I began to feel very lonely, and a little jealous. I didn't blame her. Not in the least. As close as Chris and I were before we had her, it was very different now.

We'd argue so often about what she needed, and a few times, it got pretty intense. He'd never hit me. Of course not, but I would get so upset with him because he believed he knew more about our daughter than I did.

I was her mother. I knew my child.

The jealousy I felt only grew stronger the more I tried to ignore it, and I tried. I honestly tried to get over it. I tried, made an honest effort to get Chris and I back to where we were before our lives changed completely, but he'd ignore my efforts as if I never even made any.

He kept his hours at work, and even picked up a few more. Between his work, and taking her on his time off, he was gone, it seemed, for days on end.

The inevitable happened. We started to grow apart, and I just couldn't understand it. We'd been such a good team in the beginning. I didn't know what had changed.

Our fights grew more heated, especially after things around the house became more difficult to do. The sink backed up, the shower didn't work. I'd have an irritated child on my hip demanding her daddy, while trying to fix lunch for her in a kitchen with no sink, and a cabinet door that refused to open without falling off its hinges. I'd fixed it a dozen times on my own, but it never lasted long. I eventually just pulled it off and set it to the side, giving up on it completely. That damn thing was dead to me.

Life actually became much harder when I finally admitted to myself that stress was running my life. Realizing that stress was running my life made my life more stressful. Go figure.

I finally made the realization one night while he worked late, sitting there watching her sleep, that I needed someone who was with me more often. With both of us, because I knew full well that I was no good to her if I was this stressed out.

Looking back now, I know I was only tired. I never thought being a mommy would be this hard. Don't get me wrong. I loved her, and I'd always love her, but I needed someone in my life too.

I needed someone who would be there to hold me when I needed it. Someone to listen to my gripes and complains, or just be there when I cried. Someone who would recognize the fact that I was still alive. That I was more than just some nagging little housewife, and someone who would love Leandra like his own.

I wasn't planning on being unfaithful. I would never do that to him, but enough was enough. I needed help, and as hard as Chris worked, I wasn't getting it. I needed help, not money.

I felt like I was trying to raise her alone, and he was only helping by taking her away from me. She was my daughter, and the fact that he felt that he had the right to take her away whenever he wanted, even if he always returned her back to my arms, bothered me.

"Chris." I spoke one September morning, watching him lift her from her bed, "We need to talk." I sighed. I'd just gotten her down for a nap, and it always annoyed me when he'd come in and pick her up.

"I'll get to the washer when I have the time, Gina." He sighed as well, shaking his head. Always assuming a nag was coming. That was it. That was what bugged me the most.

He kissed her head, and I saw she was immediately wide awake again.

"Chris, I'm serious. I'm trying to be honest here-"

"I'll get to it when I get to it." He hadn't raised his voice, but it was close enough.

"I'm not trying to argue with you!" Watching him only shake his head, and leave the room only frustrated me further, "Chris, listen to me."

I followed him. I watched him sit her down on the couch, handing her one of her stuffed animals before he turned. Leandra's eyes were large as she looked to us, as if knowing what was coming. That should have been my first clue. That should have been what told me things weren't working anymore. Leandra had taken notice.

"Gina, I'm tired of this." He finally said, "I'm tired of this. The moment I come through that door, it's all about things I haven't done, or need to do. Things I haven't _gotten_ to yet! Just get off my back, for Christ's sake!"

"If you were home more often, things wouldn't be that way! You have plenty of free time to spend around the house with me, but you choose to leave! When else am I supposed to bring this up, Chris? You never listen when I_ do_ see you!"

"I never listen because you choose to spend any time I do have here demanding things get done!"

"If you'd stay home with her more often-"

"So now you're angry with me because I like to spend time with my daughter?" He barked, "Really, Gina?"

"I'm not angry at that!" I groaned, "I just want some-"

"Want! Want, want, want! That's all you ever do!" He ran his hands through his hair, "You want more than Leandra does! Grow up, Gina!"

I refused to say another word. My gaze darkening significantly.

We looked at each other for several moments. Slowly, his eyes grew less angry, and they grew more sad. He'd crossed the line right then, and we both knew it.

Never once were either of us supposed to bring Leandra into our arguments, and he'd just done that. He hadn't meant to do that, and I knew it, but I wouldn't stand for that. She deserved better than that.

He was realizing, as I already had, things just weren't the same. I watched, my heart breaking as he sighed, looked down, and turned. Leaving the house.

I watched him go, not saying a word. The door closed, the car engine started and faded away. I had yet to move.

"Mama?" Her unsure little voice called to me, and I finally got moving. I crossed the living area, and lifted her to me. I kissed the side of her head, sniffling quietly. Closing my eyes, and struggling to hold onto my tears. I held her that way, holding her in my arms for quite some time.

"I'm sorry, baby." I told her. That was all I could do.

"What's wrong, mama?" She whimpered, picking up on my mood. It nearly broke me right there. Here she was, two years and two months old, and probably having just witnessed the last step before her mother and father gave up on each other.

She didn't need this. I was never going to have her know what this was like. I was going to protect her from the arguments, the fights.

"Nothing." I replied to her, looking to her, "It's okay now."

To be honest, I didn't know what to do. Watching Chris walk away had hurt me, and the only thing it told me was that he was as done trying as I was. So I did the only thing I could think of. I packed Leandra into my car, and we left. Just to go somewhere. Anywhere but that empty house.

Her big, curious eyes looking at me from the backseat made me think, and think hard about what I was doing. What was I even going to do? I was either already completely on my own, or headed there fast. With a two year old to take care of, that thought was terrifying. On top of the pain of what Chris' actions had told me.

Leandra shouldn't have to be this confused. She shouldn't have to worry about this. This was what I wanted to avoid. She deserved stability, and she deserved to have two parents that got along. Not ones that fought all the time. Over the stupidest things. How a question about what to do about our life leads to this.

I took her to a place in town where we could eat a small late lunch, and I could just think. She didn't seem worried anymore. I was with her, watching her choose the perfect french fry to eat next.

It was clear to me that I'd have to get a job again. That was the first step, but I honestly didn't know what I was supposed to do in the meantime. Would Chris wait until I was situated before leaving? Would he leave, and insist on taking Leandra with him because I couldn't provide for her yet?

That couldn't happen.

I just didn't know. That was the hardest part. I didn't know him anymore, and that was behind all of this uncertainty. What would he do? Take her to get back at me for making an effort? I needed a miracle and quickly. A way forward. A way through this blinding fear.

After we were done eating, I watched her play in the small park across the street with a few other babies her age. A couple of boys, one a little older than her. It was easy to keep track of her now that she'd found a few other toddlers to toddle after.

My eyes never left her as I thought about the consequences of what I was considering.

**A/N: First chapter down. This one was hardest, I think. I had a whole lot of information to pack in here.  
><strong>As a side note: I really think I just talked myself out of having kids with this single chapter. Like.. Ever.<strong>  
>I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. If so, feel free to let me know in the review box below. I'd love to know if I should continue or not. :)<br>****Two shouldn't take very long, as it's already written out.  
><strong>**Until two, my friends! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**ImPORTANT NOTE: Quite a bit of foul language in this chapter. That's about it. Carry on.**

**Chapter Two**

"Zack, play nice." I heard the mother on the other bench call, and I looked her way.

Her eyes were on Leandra and her new friends. She must have been the mother of the two boys she had found to play with. The smaller of the two toddlers looked to her, pouting a little. That little bottom lip sticking out. That very familiar expression little ones got when they knew they were doing wrong, but didn't want to get into trouble for it.

I laughed a little and she followed suit, looking my way now. She looked as if she were having just as hard of a day as I was.

"You must be Leandra's mama." She spoke up, and I blinked in surprise. She knew my daughter? This must have been the same park Chris had been taking her.

"Guilty." I eventually sighed with a small smile.

"I'm so used to seeing Chris bring her by." She admitted, confirming my earlier thought.

"I never come along with them." I said, watching as she gathered her book, and her plastic bag of snack cookies, and came over to my bench, "Both of them yours?"

"Those are my boys." She sighed tiredly as she sat beside me, laughing a little, "Joshua is four, and Zachary turned two in March." Perfect age for her to play with.

"I could never imagine having two." I admitted, sighing as well, "They must be such a handful together."

"Oh, it's definitely not easy, but I can tell you it's worth it." She replied, "Sometimes." We both laughed, "I'm Heather, by the way."

"Gina." I shook her hand as she held it out, "Nice to meet you. It's not often Leandra gets along with someone else. She can be pretty overbearing."

"Oh, they're fine with that." Heather shook her head, not worried in the least, "They get along with everyone, much less kids they've been playing with for almost two years now."

She had friends? How had I not known this? I was so out of the loop.

Heather spoke again, "Leandra is very beautiful. Such a pretty name, too."

"She's named after my aunt." I told her, smiling a little, "I wanted to give her a strong name. One she can appreciate all her life, instead of some cutesy little name."

"You definitely achieved that." Heather complimented, nodding.

"You did as well. Both of them."

"They're named after Mike's father, and Mike's brother. Respectively." She explained, and I assumed Mike was her husband, which was a relief to me. Considering with Chris' behavior lately, I wouldn't have ruled out him being unfaithful to me.

We watched Leandra pick up leaves and things, handing them to Zack and explaining, in tiny words, what they were for. His arms were already pretty full, his puffy sweater preventing him from holding very much. It was the cutest thing to watch. When he'd accidentally drop something, she would sigh dramatically, pick it up and shove it back into his arms. We laughed quietly, shaking our heads.

"You'll have more." Heather told me confidently, "Leandra wouldn't have it any other way."

I laughed, "I'm glad someone thinks so. I'm just so tired all the time with one."

"Chris isn't much help, I'm assuming?" She asked, and I looked down. She nodded, humming a little in understanding, "Trouble?"

"I don't even know." I admitted, my eyes now back on the kids, "It's complicated."

"I'm sorry." She said, "I didn't mean to press."

"It's alright." I replied, "I just don't really know how to explain it right. I brought her here to think."

"This is a good place to do that." She nodded, giving a thoughtful look around, "To be honest, I came here to escape home as well."

"Oh?" I prompted. I was curious, but if she really didn't feel like explaining, she didn't have to.

"Long story." She laughed a little, though I heard the tension in her voice, "Mike works a lot himself, but my brother has been around."

"And that's not good?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound too pushy.

"No." She sighed, "I'm not entirely sure he's a good influence on my boys. That's all."

"They're your children." I told her, "Be honest. Tell him you don't appreciate his presence."

"No, it's not that." She frowned a little, "He's great with my boys, and they love him to pieces. It's hard to explain."

"Has he any children of his own?" I asked, and she shook her head.

"No." She replied, "He's not married. Hasn't found the right lady yet, I guess. He's only twenty-five, so he's got time." Her tone had taken on an edge of bitterness that I wasn't used to hearing.

Thankfully, my little girl decided to break up the tension by running over to me and landing in my lap. Her smile was wide as I cuddled her. She laughed as I tickled her, "Are you having fun?"

"Come push me, mommy, please." She requested. She was at the speech stage where she really didn't realize that the word 'please' was just as acceptable at the start of a sentence, as it was at the end of one. I suppose I should just have been happy she used the word at all, not that I was complaining in the least.

It was amazingly cute, and definitely worthy of noting.

I didn't want to resist her request. Heather wasn't immune to her cuteness either, it seemed. She stood up with me and captured her little boy, Zack, as he tried to 'attack' her. She swung him up into her arms and tickled him fiercely.

So we settled the young ones into the swings, and started what seemed like a never ending cycle of pushing and dodging kicking feet while they laughed hysterically. Heather had her attention split two ways, however. When she needed to pluck Josh off somewhere too high as he pulled some dangerous stunt, I'd keep Zack going for her. Both Leandra and him giggling and giving the squealing request of, "Higher!"

All in all, I needed this. I needed this day with my daughter. Now I understood why Chris considered this more fun than staying home. I would too if I went along more often. She seemed so happy here. I'd never heard her laugh so much, and that was saying something, as she loved to laugh. Usually at my expense, but that was beside the point.

Maybe I was the problem. Maybe I just needed to learn how to have fun with her more often. Maybe I was just letting the stress get to me too much.

"Down, mommy, please." Leandra requested, so I slowed her swing, and lifted her off of it. The second she was on her feet, she raced toward Josh.

"She's already chasing boys, mommy." Heather laughed, coming back to my side.

"Oh, geez." I sighed, shaking my head, "No, no. She's not dating until she's thirty, and just think. He's already got girls chasing him, mommy."

"You got me there." She laughed again, "Those teen years are going to be a nightmare."

"Well, you could always hope he grows up to be ugly." I pointed out and we both laughed at that one.

"Heather." We both looked back at a man's call, and there he was. Clearly her brother, given the resemblance, and he smiled. She sighed what sounded like almost disappointedly, "I was wondering where you'd gone off to."

"I am so sorry." She told me quietly, and I didn't have a chance to ask. She turned quickly, "Boys, come on. It's time to go." Both of them whined, just as her brother got to us.

"What's your hurry?" He asked, looking down at me, "Who's your friend?"

She seemed like she wanted to just get going, but didn't say anything in protest. It seemed a little weird how uncomfortable she was now, when moments before, she was just fine.

"Jack, this is Gina." She murmured, "Gina, this is my brother. Jack."

"Very nice to meet you." He told me, giving me another smile. For the oddest of reasons, I returned the smile, fighting off an instant crush at the heavy attraction I so suddenly felt for this stranger. I hadn't felt this way since high school. _This_ was the bad influence Heather was talking about? He could influence me any day.

Stop it, I told myself.

His ice blue eyes were gorgeous, but accented his neat, dark brown hair wonderfully. He was strong, very strong given his build, but he carried it very well. He seemed to look right through me, making me feel vulnerable in a very intimidating but enjoyable way.

Chris was very handsome himself, but this man defined the word, and he was _single_? How on Earth was he single? What woman, in their right mind, wouldn't pounce on him the second they had a chance?

As if reminding me I was a married woman, Leandra's little voice called my attention.

"Mama." She'd whined, tugging on my sleeve, "Up, please. Up, please." She'd gained Jack's attention as well, and the way he smiled down at her ignited something like hope in my stomach. I reached down and lifted her to me, settling her on my hip. Her nose was pink, as were her cheeks as she looked to Jack as well.

"Well," Jack chuckled, "Isn't she pretty?"

"Boys." Heather called again, "Come on. Jack, let's go." She sounded urgent now as she looked to me, "I really don't mean to be rude, but-"

"Just a minute, Heather." He told her, holding his hand out to Leandra. She smiled at him, seeming amazed to be paid attention. Her little hand in contrast to his hand was almost comical. She was tiny for a two year old.

I introduced her, and the way he interacted with her really intensified the small crush I now felt. There was just something about handsome men that got along with babies that I'm sure got to every female.

We stood around talking for a little while, and he seemed to really be amazed by how smart Leandra was. Though she was shy, that really wasn't uncommon for a child her age.

She could process what he was saying to her, and reply accordingly. Holding a conversation with very little distractions or trailing off on wild tangents. She said the simplest things with such enthusiasm and dramatic emotion, it was so hard not to be endeared by her, and I could see she'd won him over easily.

I was rather proud of my smart two year old.

But no matter how much he talked to Leandra, he always managed to look to me, with that sly sort of grin that made me want to giggle. I really struggled to keep my obvious flattery in check. He was getting to me.

Jack was a pretty even mix of confidence, without seeming cocky, and charming. Holy hell, was he charming. One look, one tiny smile with his eyes, and I was nearly putty.

Thankfully, another reminder of my marital status showed up before it became unbearable. Saving me from the relentless pounding of my heart like a love-struck school girl.

"Daddy!" Leandra's excited voice and sudden almost violent squirming had me turning around to see Chris approaching from the other side of the park, "Down, mommy! Down, mommy, please!" I took a deep breath, and the best thing in the world I could have seen at that point was his hesitant, apologetic smile as I let Leandra onto her feet.

"And there she goes." Jack chuckled quietly.

Leandra raced from me straight to him, and I smiled, watching as he hauled her up off her feet easily. She laughed at the movement, but calmed as he held her close. Hesitating as he spoke to her. I had no doubts he was apologizing to her, but she'd forgive him. Easily. If she even remembered what it was he was apologizing for.

He continued on once she hugged his neck, making it to my side with a kiss to Leandra's cheek.

"I thought I'd find you here." He murmured, smiling to Heather, "I see you two have met." He caught sight of Jack standing there, "Hi." He'd obviously never met Jack before. Which was confirmed by Heather's unending impatience.

"Hello." Jack greeted in return, and I really couldn't figure out the difference in his tone. It was the same, polite tone he'd used before, but somehow, it seemed harder. Not quite tense, but different. Thicker, maybe. More closed off.

"I'm Jack. Heather's older brother." He offered his hand, and Chris took it easily.

"Chris." He replied immediately, and I could just see the tension in their grip. It confused me, until I waved it off as a man thing. They released, and all seemed well.

Chris sighed, not saying a word. Instead, placing his free arm around my shoulders, holding me securely. Not restraining, as I could move away if I chose, but supporting me. Reminding me why it was so stupid to lose myself to this stranger.

"You're a lucky man." Jack pointed out, "If I were you, I wouldn't let either of those beautiful girls out of my sight."

"Thanks." Chris replied, obviously immediately distrustful of him, "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

"Be nice." I whispered to him, "He's just being nice." He didn't reply, keeping Jack's gaze.

"Well.." Heather eventually spoke up, trying to ease the tension as she lifted Zack to her again, "I think we should-"

"I think we should all go get some ice cream." Jack cut her off, and immediately riled up the kids. He pulled a grinning Zack from Heather into his arms, "What do you say?" As if he had to ask.

"They haven't even had dinner yet, Jack." Heather pointed out almost sharply, "You'll spoil their appetite."

"Please, mama?" Josh plead, hanging onto her wrist, "Please?"

"Can we, daddy?" Leandra whined, "Can we, daddy, please?"

"I'm sorry, baby girl." He told her, "I have to get back to work. I have to work late tonight." Her hopeful expression died, and it nearly killed me to watch.

"I'll take her." I murmured, hoping to reignite that eager little look of hers.

"Gina." He seemed hesitant, "I don't know.."

Leandra looked to me, her big green eyes begging so desperately. How could I refuse, I reasoned. I didn't want to disappoint Leandra so much after such a tough day.

"I don't see why not." I murmured, and Chris looked to me with a sigh, "I think it'll be just fine." Leandra grinned, already excited as she reached for me and I pulled her into my arms. Heather and Jack were still arguing, however.

"Jack, you know I have to get home." Heather told him, "I have so much to do-"

"I'll take the boys." Jack replied, "Go on home, and I'll have them back at a decent time."

"Jack, you know-"

"I know the rules, Heather." His voice was firm, but he threw in a chuckle to lighten it as he looked to me, "She's pretty protective of my nephews. I hardly get to see them anymore."

"Eight." She finally sighed, "Not a moment later, Jack."

"Got ya." He told her, nodding, "I'll probably have them back by seven-thirty."

She gave me her phone number, and a deeply apologetic look before leaving. I quickly shook that off as a mother trying to be protective.

"Call me when you get home." Chris requested, and that was a very reasonable request. I had to give him that. Chris obviously didn't like Jack that much, and I could see that it bothered him a great deal for his wife and daughter to be going to get ice cream with him.

"I will." I replied.

"We'll talk when I get home tonight, okay?" I nodded a little, and he sighed, kissing me lightly. He kissed Leandra's cheek again, stroking her hair gently, "Be good, baby girl. I love you."

"Love you too, daddy." She replied with a smile. He gave Jack one more distrustful look, one more stroke to Leandra's head, and turned. I noticed it, but never thought to mention Jack's smile at Chris' turned back.

"So.." I sighed with a small laugh, "That was interesting."

"It was, wasn't it?" He chuckled in reply, reaching down and taking Josh's hand.

The closest, easiest place for ice cream would have been the diner across the street, but Jack had another place in mind. I followed him through town, toward the outer edge of it. A rather small, compact place, but its entire purpose was ice cream.

Nothing special, I told myself. This was just for the kids. Just ice cream.

And for the most part, it was. However, the way he was able to concentrate on what we were talking about while keeping three toddlers from overrunning the place told me he had wonderful experience with children. Especially with Leandra.

He was firm with her, but not overly so. Just as much as he was with the boys. And she responded very well to his corrections, being very polite about it. Giving him a respectful nod, or a confirming, "'Kay." Before continuing on her way. I was proud of her. Not having hardly, if any, correction from a male influence in her life, she took to it very easily.

"So tell me," Jack spoke up after a decent silence, "Your husband sure seems a little overprotective."

"I wouldn't say overprotective." I shrugged a little.

"You don't look old enough to be married, to be honest." He chuckled, "Much less have a baby that age. I never would have guessed that she was yours."

"Oh," I laughed, "Well, thank you. I'm not quite old enough for that to flatter me, but it's always nice to hear."

"Strike one." He laughed in reply, and I had to join him.

"You should be ashamed of yourself." I sniffed, "Flirting with a married lady."

"Hey," He defended himself with a grin, "I like what I see."

"Well, that was pretty forward, wasn't it?" I had the hardest time hiding my own grin.

"You can't blame a guy for trying." He replied, and I allowed that. He took a breath, leaning back in his chair before he continued.

"One thing you should probably know about me," He murmured, "Is that I'm a very ambitious guy. If I see something I like, I pursue it until it's mine, and I'll do whatever it takes for it to stay mine. I've been that way my entire life, and that won't change any time soon."

That really should have been my first clue. It should have raised a field full of red flags. In my right mind, I really should have gathered Leandra, and left right there, but having gone so long without this heavy of attention, I couldn't deny that I liked it.

Even Chris hadn't been this interested. Not ever. Chris was too nice of a guy to be this intense, this almost overbearing.

I could see it right there, the way he leaned back in his seat. Relaxed, but so incredibly tense at the same time, that he had another side to him. It intrigued me deeply, and for a moment, I had to search for my breath again.

"There's nothing wrong with being ambitious." I replied quietly when I finally remembered how to speak, glancing up into his piercing blue eyes. He smiled.

"Okay then." He gave me a nod, the intense feeling of the moment suddenly smooth and calm now. It left me feeling a little lightheaded. Dazed, almost. Like being punched in the stomach, but it wasn't painful. Not in the least.

I just briefly wondered what he'd meant by that. Should I have been worried?

By seven, it was back to the park to let the three kids run some of the sugar off before it was definitely bedtime. By seven-thirty, Leandra lay sleeping in my arms, while Zack lay sleeping in his. Her head on my shoulder, his on Jack's. Josh followed along sleepily, hardly able to stay walking. Jack eventually had to pick him up too, holding him easily in his free arm.

We talked about every little thing we could think of. Quietly, of course, as not to wake the kids. By the time it was time to take her home, it was the oddest thing to say that I didn't want to go back. Jack's attention had definitely made me see. I'd had a better time in these last few hours than I'd had in quite awhile.

He was polite, he was kind. Very good with children, very attentive, and not to mention very, _very_ attractive. It might not be Jack that I ended up with, but I needed someone who would be able to handle his duties better. Chris wasn't doing that.

I, however, did owe it to Chris to make one more attempt. One more honest try. I didn't want to face it, the idea that we just were too far apart to fix things, so I wanted to keep trying.

I gave him the phone call I'd promised to, and I could just hear the relief in his voice, which irritated me to no end. Did he honestly feel like he had to worry? Was I not trustworthy?

Chris and I fought heatedly about it that night. Me demanding to know why I was so untrustworthy and him defending his right to be suspicious without even trying to give me a reason why, which resulted in him making a bed on the couch. It really hadn't been that bad yet. We had yet to sleep apart, but I couldn't say I was surprised. I'd just never seen him so guarded before.

Was he really that insecure?

When I really couldn't fall asleep, laying awake in the huge bed alone, I left it. Moving from the bedroom, out into the living room to find him awake as well. Without a word, I crawled up onto the couch to lay beside him.

Now, it wasn't often lately we had moments like that. Laying together, neither of us speaking. It was such a needed change. Such a drastic change from the constant fighting and arguing, but this wasn't comforting.

This was the calm after the devastating storm. Looking around at all the damage done, and what was left of the life you had before.

My eyes welled with tears while I laid there, his arm around my shoulders. I could feel it and I knew he could too. This chapter was ending for us. No matter what we did now, it wouldn't fix a damn thing.

That was the last night we spent together.

We saw each other around the house, and I eventually got used to sleeping alone. He never once complained about the couch, actually seeming to prefer it.

Over the next three months, I saw Jack all the time. Perhaps more than I even saw my own husband. Taking Leandra as often as I could to the park in the evening while Chris was at work.

Each time Jack saw us, he was even more charming than the last time. He knew I was married, though, so we never seemed any more than friends. He kept his distance, his words respectful.

I had my share of guilt, though. Oh, it was bad. I was the type of person to find what I was doing cheating. I had no way to help it, though. I was so lonely, and Jack was so very sweet and supportive, I began to fall right for him.

I continued to try repeatedly to talk with Chris about everything I felt, but he continued to refuse to listen. Stressed to the point of just walking away the moment he saw me. Until finally, I stopped trying. I gave up.

I knew it needed to be addressed, so one night, after Leandra had gone to bed, I sat down on the couch with Chris. He made no move, not even an acknowledgement of the fact that I was there. I stayed silent, holding my coffee cup in a grip that trembled. I really didn't want to do this.

He wasn't happy, I wasn't happy, and Leandra was suffering because of it. We had to face this now. No more putting it off.

I knew it long before his next words.

"There's someone else." His voice was so quiet, I wasn't even sure I'd heard him, but then I was so sure I'd heard every word he said. I slowly looked over, unable to really breathe as I struggled to see him in the dark.

"What?" I asked breathlessly, wishing he'd at least try to fix what he said. Please, I begged in my mind. Don't say that again. Don't ever say that.

"I said," He replied, "That there's someone else."

Was he telling me that he'd fallen for someone else, or he'd already taken steps with that someone else? What on Earth did it matter?

That was why he flipped out so bad over Jack. That was why he was so suspicious of me. So insecure, despite the fact that he had no reason to be. His own actions were making him insecure.

That was the reason he wasn't trying harder to fix what we had. He'd already given up on what we had, with a replacement. He was gone so often, I wouldn't have bothered to doubt that he'd already taken steps with this skank.

Stunned, completely shocked, I moved. Off the couch. Sitting on the loveseat, moving away from him before I could start beating on him in my sudden overwhelming rage. I honestly wasn't sure how to feel at that point. I didn't know anything.

He sighed, sitting up straighter and turning on the light.

"What?" I asked again, but he didn't bother replying this time. He wouldn't even look at me, keeping his eyes down.

"Her name is Rachel." He spoke up finally after enough silence from me, "I didn't know how to tell you this, but out of respect for you, I haven't moved along the relationship."

"Then _don't_." I couldn't help my snap, my tone so hard I was shocked he didn't react.

"Gina, you know-"

"I _know_ that I would have had more compassion than going out and sniffing up some tramp's leg just because we fight." I stood up, and he stood up, "What the _fuck_, Chris?"

"You knew this was coming." He replied, his tone just a shade more sour, "Jack?"

"What about him?" I snapped, "I've been faithful to you every step of the way. I've never even considered cheating on you! Not fucking once, Chris!"

"Calm down." He growled at me, "You're going to wake Leandra."

"Calm down?" I snorted, "You tell me you've been fooling around on me, and you tell me to calm down? Are you serious right now? Are you _serious_?" I shoved him. I'd never been mad enough to dare lay a hand on him. I've never, ever been this mad before in my life.

"Speaking of Leandra," I continued, "You know, your own fucking daughter.. When exactly were you planning on breaking the news to her? That her daddy is nothing but a two-faced fucking man-whore, who fucks around on his family?"

"I have not been fucking around, Gina." He snapped in reply, "I wouldn't do that."

"Right." I scoffed, "And I'm the queen of motherfucking England. Where'd you meet this bitch?"

"It doesn't matter-"

"Bull shit!" I wanted to be surprised at how loud my voice was, "Bull _shit_, Chris! I think I deserve to fucking know! What is _wrong_ with you?" I was seconds from crying, and I sure as fucking hell did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.

"Get out." I pointed sharply at the front door.

"What?" It was his turn to be surprised.

"Get the fuck out, Chris!" I shouted just as sharply.

"Now?"

"_Right_ now!" I was about to lose it, and he needed to go before I wound up doing something stupid, "Go. Go to your whore. I don't give a fuck what you do anymore, but get out, you _sorry_ son-of-a-bitch!" I shoved him back again, back toward the door. I was done. _So_ done.

"I at least want to see Leandra first." He moved to step around me, but I quickly countered.

"Take one more step toward her room, I'll rip your fucking balls off, Chris." I could see that he really did not want to test me, "You don't deserve to see her anymore. Not after this. Not when _I'm_ going to have to be the one to tell her that her daddy doesn't give a flying fuck about her anymore."

"That's not true." He countered, "I'll always love her." He glared, but didn't push me. I shoved him backwards again, this time more effectively.

"Gina, would you just wait. I'm trying to explain-"

"I'm fucking done listening!" I was furious. I admit, I was flipping out, but what woman in their right mind wouldn't?

"Come on." He snapped, "Don't do this-"

Yanking open the front door, I shoved him out of it. Slamming the door in his shocked face. I locked the door with a trembling hand, ensuring he couldn't come right back in, and grabbed for his keys. Practically ripping the house keys from their ring as he called my name outside on the porch. I had to shake out my shaking hands a few times, breaking at least two of my fingernails as I wrestled the house keys free.

I yanked open the living room window, and lobbed the rest of his keys out the window as hard as I could. I faintly heard them hit his car. I hoped they cracked the window, but I even doubted I could throw them that hard.

"I hope that bitch gives you herpes, you piece of shit!" I shouted before slamming the window shut.

Surprisingly, he didn't yell back. He didn't say a word. He handled my fury in a more civilized way than I even expected him to.

I waited until I heard his car start and peel out before I slammed my palm against the wall as hard as I could. I sobbed, unable to help it, as I hit the wall again. And again. Tears pouring down my cheeks too fast to stop them.

Despite knowing we'd eventually call it quits, to be screwed over like this really stung. I never, ever expected this from him. Anyone else, but not him. I'd never been this wounded, this emotionally hurt before. This definitely would leave a mark, and I'd definitely feel this tomorrow.

A soft, hesitant sob behind me made me turn quickly. Leandra had been woken up, and though I wasn't exactly surprised, she had to be so confused. She just didn't understand how badly Chris had just fucked up. All she knew was that we were fighting again, and now, she was crying because of it.

I kneeled down, gesturing her forward. She didn't hesitate. Coming straight forward and into my arms.

I didn't want my daughter around arguing like that. I grew up with the fighting and the arguing, and I didn't want her knowing that. Now that that was completely ruined, I was mad. I was furious.

"Don't yell no more, mommy." She sobbed into my shoulder, "Don't cry no more, mommy, please."

That was it. No compromise, no talking it out. That son-of-a-bitch could have his whore, and I didn't give a shit anymore. I was holding the one that meant more to me than some bitch.

"It's okay, baby." I told her, sniffling and standing. I lifted her with me, considering she wouldn't let me go, "It's okay now. Things are going to change around here. I promise." I vaguely felt her nod. Even if she didn't understand exactly what I meant, she accepted my soothing voice as proof that I meant what I said.

I'd do right by her. She didn't need Chris' influence anymore.

Unfortunately, shared custody was pretty much mandatory when it came to a separated couple. He was her father. Legally, he had rights to her that I couldn't stand in the way of. No matter how much I wanted to.

She didn't understand the gravity of what he'd done, so naturally, she was overjoyed to see him.

He didn't come back until two days after I'd thrown his ass out. I had a clearer head now, so I allowed him in. I opened the door, but didn't say a damn word to him. I knew what he was here for, and it wasn't to talk it over.

I'd been busy. Three full boxes of his shit were already sitting by the door. Clothes and belongings filled those boxes, and he should be damn glad they weren't sitting out in the yard.

He greeted Leandra much like he always did, with a big scooping hug and a kiss. The first thing she did, however, was beg him to explain why he'd been gone for so long. I'd let him handle that one.

"Well.." He sighed, kneeling down and setting her on her feet in front of him, "Your mama isn't very happy with me, but I can't blame her much."

"Why?" She asked, frowning.

"I messed up, baby girl." He replied, "I messed up real bad, but I want you to know right now that I love you more than anything in the world, okay? Your mama does too. We both love you so, so much, and I'll see you again really soon. I promise."

He hugged her tight, and I looked down. I hated this situation so much already. I could feel his heartbreak, but I honestly hoped it got worse as time went on, because he truly brought this on himself. It was the inevitable heartbreak Leandra would feel that bothered me. It would take some time for her to understand what was happening now, and I knew then that I'd have to be strong for her, no matter how much this hurt me too.

I pulled her to me once he released her, having waited patiently. He immediately got to work carrying the boxes out to his car. One right after the other.

Once the third and final box was out, I walked us out onto the porch. I didn't want him in my house again.

"Leandra, baby." I murmured, "Say goodbye to your daddy."

She did as I told her, and I could see the emotion in his eyes as he pulled back. One hand stroking her hair as he kissed her forehead. I sent her inside then, because I had some things to say.

"Gina," He sighed once she was back inside the house, "I-"

"You'll see her four times a week." I told him, "You pick the days, but if you disappoint her once, you'll regret it."

"I can't do four times a week." He replied, "Rachel-"

"Don't mention that slut around me." I snapped quietly.

He sighed again, "I'm staying in Port Angeles. It's a pretty big distance-"

"You'll figure it out, Chris." I countered, "It's not that much of a distance to see your daughter."

"Look, I'll see what I can do, but I'm not making any promises." He hesitated, "And about child support, you'll get it."

"Good." I replied, "Because I expect it."

"I'll keep paying on the house, since it's in my name first." He told me, "And I won't toss her out on the streets."

"I'll figure something out." I assured him bitterly, "Don't you worry about that much longer."

"Whatever else you want, it's yours." He continued, "Until you're on your feet."

How mighty damn decent of him.

"I'm working on that, too." I admitted, my tone less sharp. An icy silence passed, until I spoke again, "How could you do this, Chris? To not only me, but to her?"

"I don't know." He sighed, shaking his head, "I don't even know where my head was at. Things just got so hard, and I was getting so.. Just frustrated with everything."

"I wish you knew just how hard I tried to fix it." I murmured, "You never even noticed, Chris. Not once. You assumed every time I spoke that I'd blame you or pester you."

"Could you really blame me, Gina?" He asked, looking back up, "All we ever did was fight anymore. Name one time recently where we truly got along." I hesitated.

"But I wanted to try." I reasoned, "I wanted things to get better, but with you always gone for whatever reason, that was pretty hard to do. It takes two people, Chris, to make a marriage work. With you always running away, it was doomed to fail from the first crack."

He sighed, "Maybe you're right. I know I'm a pretty big fuck-up, Gina, but.. I didn't know what else to do."

"Well, you did exactly what you shouldn't have." I murmured sadly, "And now everyone's suffering because of it. I honestly, truly hope you're happy now.

"When Leandra figures out what's happening, and she's crying her eyes out, I hope you're happy. When she wonders why you left, or where you went, I hope you're happy. When she.." My voice broke with emotion but I fixed it immediately, "When she wonders what she did so wrong, I hope you're happy.

"She loves you more than I'm sure you realize, because if you'd realized it, you never would have done this. If you couldn't have thought of me while finding someone else, the very least you could have done was think of her. You owed her more than this, Chris."

He stayed silent through all of this. Not once looking up, or meeting my eyes.

"Do you honestly believe she was better off if I'd stayed?" He asked, "Do you honestly believe that growing up around all the bickering and fighting was good for her? Was it not obvious to you that it really wasn't working, or was I the only one to see it?"

"No you weren't, but I was the only one willing to fight for what we had, Chris." I replied, "I wanted to keep it together, not walk away and watch it fall apart from someone else's bed."

"I'm sorry." Was all he said. No longer denying it anymore. This had obviously been going on for quite some time.

"Don't apologize to me." I shook my head, "Don't you dare apologize to me. I already know you're sorry. Some sorry excuse for a husband and a father. You apologize to your daughter. She's the one that deserves it."

We made no progress that evening. The hurt kept that from happening.

Even separated, though, I still felt guilty. Especially the day I invited Jack home a week after Chris moved out. For nothing more than some coffee and for him to take care of quite a few things around the house that had yet to be fixed. In one day, he took care of all the things wrong, aside from the washer.

I offered to pay him, and he just smiled, declining. We sat there, watching Leandra kneeling on the floor, playing with her toys in front of us, and I expressed my worry.

"It's shared custody right now." I mumbled into my coffee cup, "It's already bothering her." He was quiet, trying to be supportive but not knowing what to say, "She comes in at night, asking where daddy is. I only have a little while before this becomes a permanently scarring moment in her life." I sighed, pausing as I nibbled a little on my thumb nail, "I'm going to file for divorce."

"Are you sure you want to do that, Gina?" He asked.

I sighed, "I just don't know what else to do anymore. Sometimes, some things just can't be fixed. I need the closure."

He was quiet, nodding a little, "Then push for full custody." I looked to him, surprised.

"Really?" I asked, shocked, "I don't know-"

"He'll be angry." He pointed out, "He'll do everything he can to take her from you." He paused, cursing quietly in a concerned manner, "But then, without you having any income, he'd win. Hands down."

"Shit." I mumbled, "You're right. Well, I could always reapply to get my old job back."

"Or.." He mused quietly, "I could always move in."

"Jack, I really don't know about that." I replied, sighing, "So soon? What would Leandra think?"

"It's better than you losing her." He countered gently.

He definitely had a point there.

"Look," He said, "I know how much Leandra means to you. I couldn't bear to see her taken from you. I know what guys like him are capable of. I've grown attached to her myself. Haven't I, Leandra?" He looked to her, and she looked up, having heard her name.

"Uh-huh." She replied, nodding a little.

"And do you think I should move in with your mama?" He asked, his voice for once too sweet. A small pang if distrust blossomed in my stomach, and for a second, I tried to make myself see reason.

"Yes." She grinned, liking the attention yet again. Her smile did everything to erase that distrust. She liked him. Why shouldn't I?

"Well.." I mumbled, watching her stand and toddle her way to Jack. He lifted her, settling her on his lap. She squealed and giggled as he tickled her lightly. I didn't see anything wrong.

"I'm just trying to help you out, Gina." He murmured, "I don't want to see her taken from you, and never seen again. That's what guys like him do. He'll take her, and he'll make for damn sure you get no time with her."

"He wouldn't _do_ that, though." I denied, shaking my head, "Chris knows what she means to me."

"Are you really willing to risk it?" He asked softly. That was truly the question. I never believed Chris would do what he'd done already, either. I _never_ saw that coming. I felt like I didn't know him at all anymore, so Jack really did have a point. It was just too big of a risk not to consider.

"You do what you have to do to keep your child." He told me, "I'm only trying to offer suggestions. I hate to see a mother working her entire life away trying to provide for her baby, if she even gets to keep her." She squirmed from his lap, wanting to get back to her toys. She slid unsteadily to her feet, but he supported her until she found her footing.

"Jack.." I sighed, "I-I.." I didn't know what to say. I looked down, fully aware when he scooted closer to me on the couch. The warmth of his hand as it covered mine in my lap had me look up.

"Let me help you." He said, "I know it's.. A little weird to offer so soon, but trust me. It's the easiest way. Let me worry about the income, and let me worry about the legal stuff. Let me help you, and you just worry about your own."

I was shocked to find I was really considering it.

"I'll take care of you, Gina." He gave me a sure nod, "And I'll take care of her." We both looked to Leandra, crouched on the floor as she inspected one of her stuffed animals.

"I wouldn't offer if there were many other options. I just know how being alone scares you." Jack continued, "So just.. Just think about it."

I took a few minutes, watching as he stood briefly, and crouched beside her. Giving me my time as he spoke with her.

It was hard. It really was. One of the hardest decisions of my life to take Jack on his offer. I couldn't imagine Chris taking her away from me, but Jack did have a point. He had a big point. I didn't have any income, and any time I spent away from caring for her, even to work, would be looked at. Closely.

I couldn't afford a sitter. Not for the amount of time it'd take to make enough money to afford living here for much longer. Without Chris, there was no way I could make enough as a waitress to afford the house payments. There was always the option of uprooting, and finding a cheaper place, but hadn't Leandra dealt with enough change already?

With Jack here, it would be so much easier, and he'd already proved he knew so much about kids. I wondered briefly if he could handle his job and his family life, as that was something I needed. He was so good at handling everything else. He could take his responsibilities seriously. He could give us a better life. That's all I'd wanted for her.

I told myself that she preferred Chris, because he was the fun one. He never had to be the one to discipline her. That was always my job. I told myself that she needed a daddy. Not a friend. Someone who would teach her, and be firm with her, without reinforcing bad behavior with jokes and laughter.

Most of all, I just wanted to keep her. I didn't want to lose her because I was too cautious. I had to accept that what I had with Chris was gone now, no matter how much I wanted to hold onto it. I had my little girl to think about now.

All was done. There was nothing left to say to him, or do. He'd made his choice, and now it was time to make my own. I had to admit his betrayal had hurt me, broken my heart, and that was partially what nudged my decision. On top of the fact that Jack was promising a better life. An easy transition.

I wanted to make it clear, "I'm not looking for a lover. Not while I'm still married, but for sure not so soon."

"Of course not." He replied easily, "I wouldn't expect to just hop right into your bed." He grinned, and I had to admit, it was a little amusing, "But I'll take care of that marriage for you."

I nodded thoughtfully so he continued, "And I'll take the spare room. All they'd care about is the income for the household. Not the sleeping arrangements, and I can guarantee that I make more than enough to satisfy them.

"Shit, I can guarantee that I make more in two weeks than he did in two months, for less than half the working hours. Which means I'd be here more often to help you out. Just something to think about."

He sure did know how to charm a lady. He knew exactly what to say. Of course he'd know all about my frustrations with Chris' work schedule, as I'd spoken to him about it on numerous occasions.

"Leandra will be in my room." I offered fair warning, "Until I know for sure that I can trust you with her."

"Of course." He agreed just as easily, "I can't blame you."

I wanted it over, and I hated to admit how low I was sinking, but I wanted to hit Chris where it hurt the most, and unfortunately, that was Leandra.

I wanted full custody of our child, and Jack was promising that. I saw a way out, with a lovely little side-dish of revenge along the way. One last final 'fuck you' to the man who'd broken his vow to me.

And so I accepted Jack's offer that night.

**A/N: Honestly? I can't say that I blame her much for being _that_ pissed.  
>This got a bit longer than I anticipated in the adding-inediting stage.  
>This is actually a very emotional story for me. I didn't think it would be, to be honest, but perhaps it's knowing how this all ends that makes it hard to bear.<strong>  
><strong>THANK YOU to my reviewer of the first chapter! I was admittedly pretty nervous about putting this out there, but THANK YOU for letting me know that at least one person approves. :D <strong>  
><strong>Chapter Three will have an important note at the top. It's a pretty rough one, so please prepare for that.<strong>  
><strong>Until Three, my friends! :D<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

I didn't protest to Chris having time with her after that. If everything went the way I wanted it to, it wouldn't be long until I could legally tell him to fuck off if I chose to.

Jack was moved in before Chris' next appearance, and I thought it was actually pretty amusing to have Jack answer the door when he came knocking. I briefly wondered exactly what was going through his mind, and it gave me great satisfaction to see the jealousy cross Chris' features. He could think exactly what he wanted to think. He had no right to be upset.

Chris understandably wanted to talk the second I handed him the packet of papers sitting waiting for him. I could have had it mailed, but I'd prefer to hand it over myself.

"So.." Chris leaned against the porch railing, "This is really happening."

"It is." I replied, sighing. I couldn't keep my sadness from my tone, "What'd you expect, Chris? Did you really think I'd wait around for you to get bored with what's-her-face?" That was the nicest thing I'd ever called that whore.

He shook his head, "Honestly, I didn't know what to expect, but that definitely wasn't it. I just wasn't expecting this so soon."

"This isn't easy for me." I admitted almost silently, "I go to sleep each night, and wake up each morning wishing so much that you'd have just stopped and thought about it. I need this, Chris. I need this closure." I fell quiet, "How long?"

His jaw clenched and unclenched, and I could easily read the expression in his eyes.

"About six months." He replied, and I looked down, "And you?"

"Me?" I asked, looking over.

"How long have you been with him in there?"

I hated to ruin the torture, but he was honest with me, so I had to be honest with him.

"I haven't." I answered evenly, and that seemed to surprise him, "Chris, I meant what I said. I was, and never would have been unfaithful to you. That was a line I never, ever would have even considered crossing. No matter how bad things got. I owed you more than that, but I certainly don't owe you a damn thing now."

"So..?" He seemed confused, and I knew what he was asking about. He wanted to know about this situation, "If you're not sleeping with him, then..?"

"He offered to move in." I explained, "To help me out with expenses, so I wasn't dependent on you anymore."

"How generous." He grumbled, "Now you're dependent on him."

"A clean break." I added, "I don't need to explain anything to you."

"Gina, I'll be honest." He sighed, "I don't like him, or how you just.. You just let him move right in. Do you know anything about this man? Yeah, you've talked to him, but do you know anything about him?"

"I don't think that's any of your business anymore." I muttered curtly.

"The hell it's not." He countered, surprised, "Leandra lives here. He could be some psychopath, and you just moved him into your home. You _can't_ just do that." He took a breath, "And have you ever even stopped to think about what might be in it for him?"

"I'm well aware of that." I pushed away from the railing to face him, "I'm not stupid, Chris."

"Then stop acting like it." He was upset now, "This is my daughter we're discussing. I don't like the way he looks at her. He can look at you however the hell he wants to, but when he regards my daughter like that, I get a little tense. I'm sorry."

"How he regards her is my business now, Chris." I retorted, "Not yours. You really should have considered this before."

"I don't want him around her." He told me, "Look, like it or not, I still have a say in what goes on in her life."

He turned, opening the front door to look inside. Leandra stood there beside the couch, Jack sitting there looking toward us. Given Leandra's expression, she knew we were fighting again. The second Chris' eyes met his, Jack stood up.

"Leandra." Chris spoke to her, "Go grab some clothes, baby girl. You're coming home with me."

"Like hell." I snapped, stepping around and looking to him. Standing between him and Leandra now, "You're not taking her from me just because you're jealous."

"Jealous?" He snorted, "You've got to be out of your mind if _that_ doesn't bother you." He gestured to Jack. I glanced back to see Jack holding her now. Her wide eyes on Chris and I.

"No, Chris." I snapped, "It doesn't. I agreed for her to have an afternoon with you. Not to go and move in with you and that skank."

"I'm not living with her." He sighed, frustrated, "Do you think I'm that hard up?"

"I don't know what you are anymore, Chris." I answered, "But I do know that she's not moving in with you."

Jack sighed, "Look-"

"You stay out of this." Chris barked his direction, and Jack's calm expression quickly turned incredulously amused.

"I agreed for her to have an afternoon with you." I told Chris, "But now, I'm not so sure today is the day for that. I think it'd be best if you left."

"I'm _not_ leaving her here." Chris immediately responded, "I'm taking her."

"I'd love to see you come and try that." Jack spoke up to my surprise, "Come on. Just a few steps inside the door, buddy."

There was no confusion about what Jack was getting at. Chris didn't live here anymore, and anything Jack did to him inside the house would be classified as self-defense. His rights to Leandra didn't matter when it came to situations like this.

To my even more intense surprise, Chris actually did.

"No." I immediately placed both hands against Chris' chest, stopping him from advancing, "Chris, you need to leave."

"Yes." Jack agreed, "Get the fuck out."

"Nice." Chris snapped at me, "And that's the language he uses around her?"

"Final warning." Jack added before I could even respond, "I won't tell you again."

"Tell me again." Chris responded, "Come on. Tell me."

Jack then set Leandra on her feet, who crouched beside the couch nervously, and he moved forward.

"Both of you, knock it off!" I was still doing my best to keep Chris back, but Jack was even closer now. Leandra's fearful expression was really what did it for me, "Chris, stop acting like an asshole. Leave now."

"Not without my daughter." He replied.

"You're not getting her." Jack told him.

"We'll just see about that, won't we?" Chris growled, "This isn't over."

"You're right." Jack nodded, "This isn't over. Not yet it's not, but don't you worry. It will be soon. For now, though, get out of my house."

That pissed Chris off even more. He stepped around me, despite my attempts to counter, but was met with Jack's swift punch to his face. Knocking him clean on his ass. I was so shocked, I couldn't speak at first. I didn't know what to do.

I never saw Jack move, much less about to punch him. He was so quick about it, so sure. Striking without a moment's hesitation.

Leandra's sob broke the tense silence, her sudden bawling cries were what got me moving. I moved away then. I didn't want to stand between two men, with one so quick to punch. I moved to Leandra, lifting her into my arms. She wrapped her arms around my neck instantly, only sobbing louder.

Chris stood back up, though a little unsteady and with plenty of blood down his face to deal with, he gave Jack a look that would wither anyone else. The fact that he kept consciousness after a hit that hard, though, spoke volumes about where he was at right then.

"This isn't over." Chris repeated his earlier words, "Lay one hand on either of them-"

"Move along, junior." Jack chuckled, "Walk it off."

Chris moved his glare to me, but I didn't bother saying anything. I was busy protecting my daughter. She was terrified, and I couldn't blame her. I found myself blaming Chris for all of this. I didn't blame Jack in the least.

Chris turned, finally leaving the house. Slamming the door behind him as Jack looked to me with a sigh.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." He told me, and I immediately shook my head.

"He was asking for it." I replied, "He was completely out of line. Thank you for putting Leandra down first, though."

"She okay?" He asked almost hesitantly.

"She'll be fine." I muttered, "Once she calms down."

"Think he'll squeal?" He asked as we heard his car start, and he peeled out. Leaving in a rather big hurry.

"Probably not." I shook my head, "His pride is bruised more than his face is going to be, and besides. What's he going to say? He got punched for threatening us. You didn't seriously hurt him, and he was warned several times. I wouldn't even worry about it." I sighed, hesitating for a minute, "How's your hand?"

I really didn't want Jack to get pissed at me because Chris wanted to act like a spoiled baby and have him leave. I didn't want that. I wanted him to stay.

"Ah," He waved it off, "No biggie. I'm pretty tough." He seemed fine, honestly. He reached out and gently took Leandra from me. Probably because of the way I held onto her protectively, he knew I'd tear anyone else's hand off at the wrist and promptly make them eat it.

She didn't like that. She fought to get back to me, but he spoke to her, which distracted her.

"Don't worry." He told her cheerfully, "The bad man is gone. You're with me now. Wasn't that a good hit?" His tone had changed, but not in a bad way. It stayed cheerful, but lightened even more. She picked up on the tone, and responded with a small smile, "That was a good hit, wasn't it? See, your daddy wanted me to hit him. He told me to, right? You heard him tell me to?" She hesitantly nodded a little, "Yeah, he told me to. So I did. I gave him what he wanted. It's okay now."

She took a few emotional deep breaths, the half sobbing gasps, and attempted to smile, but dissolved back into tears. He laughed, shaking his head as he looked to me.

"Well, I thought it was a good try." He muttered.

"It was a very good try." I had to hand it to him, "She'll be alright." I moved away now that someone else had hold of her. I locked the front door, both the knob and the deadbolt, and dug the solid oak baseball bat from behind the end table. Hanging it on the nail in the wall directly beside the door.

"Nice." Jack chuckled.

"Non-lethal." I said, "But enough for him to know that he's not taking my baby."

"He's not taking her." Jack confirmed with a shake of his head, "Don't worry about that. I'll take care of that."

I knew witnessing that had to bother her, so I wasn't surprised that she wasn't eased much by Jack's attempts. That was her father, and she cared deeply for him. The blood probably scared her more than anything else.

"I know." I sighed to her, pulling her back to me. She hugged me again immediately, "It's okay, baby. Come on." I turned, carrying her into the kitchen. I doubted she was hungry, but some water or juice might ease her enough to start calming down.

After that, our lives changed drastically in such a short time.

Leandra eventually did calm down, and as far as I knew, never thought of the incident again.

She had been moved partially out of her room, and into mine. We shared my bed, and I had to admit, it did suck so bad getting kicked by a sleeping two year old. Despite them not being physically that strong, but they had dead aim when it came to kicking. Managing to get me right exactly where it hurt the most. And at the most random times.

Suddenly, out of the blue, kidney shot. Or a small foot would land itself on my face. Somehow, she'd fall asleep right side up, but flip completely around while she slept, never once waking up. My child was an acrobat. That had to be the only explanation.

I'd move her, but she'd give me the dirtiest look at my apparent rudeness for waking her up. I eventually gave in, and moved her mattress into my room. She appreciated that, but I wasn't surprised when she crawled in with me anyway. It had to be lonely practically there on the floor.

Jack took the spare bedroom just as we'd agreed. Never even seemed to mind. It was a decent sized room, and handled a full sized bed easily. It was the second biggest bedroom in the house, so I didn't feel too bad about stuffing him in there.

I saw Chris one last time, and he seemed just a little less agitated than he was the previous visit. Practically begging me to rethink the whole situation with Jack. Begging me to let him take Leandra with him. At least for a little while until I could assess Jack on my own.

That he was sure Jack wasn't who he said he was. I easily waved that off, though, as someone desperate and on the verge of losing everything.

Chris got one more visit with Leandra, and completely blew it. I'd agreed for her to spend the night with him. One night, since he seemed to be against it, but accepting of the way things were again.

Instead of one night, however, I didn't see her for three days. I knew she was fine, as she was with her dad, but I still didn't sleep much at all during the two days she was missing. Chain smoking while Jack repeatedly tried to calm me down. Who was he to kidnap her?

I'd read too many stories and articles in news magazines and papers about husbands who kidnap their own children just to get back at their wives. Never to be seen or heard from again.

Jack informed me stoically that sometimes, as an even bigger form of desperate revenge, some husbands would kill their children, then themselves in a murder-suicide scenario. I thought about Chris' behavior when he came by to pick her up the last time I'd seen him. He did seem pretty desperate.

That completely _terrified_ me.

All I wanted was my child back, and I told him that. I wound up having to call the police anyway, which was surprisingly not as messy as I thought it would be. All they did was find and arrest him, take her, and have me come pick her up at the police station in town. Where I would decide whether or not to press charges.

I didn't feel like sending him to jail. I got what I wanted, and she was fine.

Jack had a few quiet words with him at the station, and Chris kept his glare up. I was too busy holding my daughter to pay much attention to that, though. She was fine. Just as with any two-and-a-half year old, she didn't even realize that what Chris had done was wrong. She'd missed me, though. Which was relief enough in itself.

Since I specifically said I didn't want him in jail, they let it slide for him, and let him go but not without warning him to stay away from the house until the divorce was finalized.

And if anything, those two days made me even more sure of Jack. If Chris was hoping that what he did would change my mind about Jack, he was sadly mistaken.

That was the final straw, and probably what sped up the divorce, making it go as smoothly as it did.

Just as he said he would, Jack took care of all the legal work, while I got to spend more time with my baby. Loving on her, spoiling her a little after her recent kidnapping.

I had no clue how Jack managed it so quickly, with so little hassle, but the divorce was finalized by Tuesday the following week. I hadn't even needed to be there. Only sign a few things, and that was it. I think one was something that allowed Jack's lawyer to negotiate on my behalf so that I didn't have to see Chris much at all. As a safety precaution of my own.

It still left my mind spinning how quick and effective Jack's lawyer was. I'd heard of these things taking weeks at least. More than likely months over negotiations, especially when it involved children, but in just under a week? That was astonishing.

I got the house, my car, and full custody of my child. I was pretty damn satisfied.

I didn't even realize at first what Chris' last goodbye to Leandra meant.

I hadn't known that he'd permanently lost the chance for visitation as well as custody. Meaning, he couldn't ever even see his daughter. I hadn't been told that he was banned from seeing her before I signed the papers. Not from Jack, not from the lawyer he'd hired to represent me. By the time I found out I'd done the very thing I was most afraid of having done to me, Chris was gone.

But it really should not have been a surprise to me. After what he did, it only made sense that he'd lose visitation.

I replaced that guilty feeling with spite. Well, I figured this never would have happened if he'd have just brought her back to me on time. This never would have happened if he'd made an honest effort to fix things instead of running right out and finding a replacement to me like a scared little boy.

If he wanted to turn his back on us like that, he didn't deserve to have us, and that was that. Fuck him, and his new whore. I hoped they were happy wherever they were. I was glad it took so little time. For Leandra's sake. Now we could both get on with our lives.

That evening, Jack insisted we celebrate my new-found single status. Even if I really didn't feel like celebrating. I felt more like crying. It was an odd, sort of loss-like feeling. It was stupid, I knew, to feel like grieving over someone that fucked me over so badly and tried to fuck me over even worse, but I couldn't help it.

Leandra helped that, though, by speaking up.

"I coloring this blue." That very obvious, proud statement from her little voice was so random, so out of the 'blue', it made me laugh.

Thankfully, it was a piece of paper she was coloring on, and not the wall or table, but she was still learning. There were some things she still had trouble with, like telling the difference between blue and purple. I'd let her keep that, though, because she was half right.

Jack moved over and scooped her up. She whined a little at being taken from her art project, but didn't complain as much as I thought she would as she looked to him.

"How can you be sad?" Jack asked me, "You get to keep her." He had a point there. She settled for leaning over in his arms to pluck a stuffed animal off the back of the couch. So I relented, determined now to feel better as I kissed my daughter on her nose.

"Mommy." She huffed, as she was focused so much on her teddy bear, she hadn't seen me coming, and I'd startled her a little.

"Can I have a kiss?" I asked her, and she seemed to think about it for a second before she grinned and granted me with one. I smiled, "Thank you." I glanced to the clock, sighing. It was about time she went to bed.

"Leandra," I murmured, pulling her to me, "Can you go get your pajamas ready for your bath?"

"My paj-mamas?" She sighed, looking down, "I guess so." She seemed a little confused.

"Jammies." I clarified and she understood that one. I always called them jammies. Obviously easier to say than 'pajamas'.

"Oh." She said, "Yeah, mommy, I can do that. That's easy."

"From the drawer this time, baby. Not the dirty basket." She nodded again, and I let her on her feet. She ran off toward her room and I sighed, watching after her. It was such a relief, knowing I never had to worry about her being taken again.

"Thank you, Jack." I told him, and he smiled.

"I'm more than happy to help." He replied.

Once Leandra was in my bed fast asleep, I'll admit I had too much to drink. I would have been upset at Jack for letting me have that much, if I'd been sober enough to care. If I'd been sober enough to care, I'd have thought twice about what being single again meant. How lonely of a feeling that was, and the guilt at taking Leandra from Chris for good should have gotten to me.

All was well, however, while I recovered the next day. Jack took the day off from work to take care of Leandra, proving he could pull it off. She was content, watching TV with him and snacking on apple slices the first time I could move long enough to check on her. She offered me one, and I had to decline.

I suppose that's when it all really began.

Leandra was being especially hyper that day. Talking non-stop, and it hurt to try to follow where her conversations were going. Normally, it was easy.

She was heavily into counting today, even though she struggled with it. Her favorite number was one, because she could easily show it on her hand. The number five was a close second.

"Show me number three." I suggested, which confused her. She stared at her hand, and I enjoyed several blissful seconds of silence. I rested my eyes for those few seconds, while Jack laughed under his breath.

She pouted a little, "I don't know which letter."

"It's a number." I laughed, which hurt, but I couldn't help it. It was funny.

"I don't know which letter, mommy." She seemed really frustrated, "Show me?"

"I don't know it either." I replied, "That's why I wanted you to show me." Jack and I both laughed at that one. Obviously, she didn't get the joke, but she didn't even try to. She just stared at her hand, trying to figure it out.

"Like this." Jack spoke up, and she turned to him. He took her hand, and put down the necessary fingers. She looked up at him, "Like that."

"Thank you." She told him with a grateful nod, before she suddenly turned and pounced onto the couch with me, "Look, mama. Like this." Her tone was particularly excited, so naturally, it was loud. Not quite a yell, but an excited giggle that really did not sit well with the splitting migraine I had.

"Lower your voice, baby." I requested with a wince, "Mommy's not feeling good."

"Oh." She thankfully did as I asked, "Sorry, mama. I'ma be quiet now." She kneeled there on the couch beside me, looking around for a minute. Probably thinking up some subject to start on again.

She suddenly found one.

"Can we go to the park today, mommy?" She whined a little as if I'd already said no. The sudden direction change had my head spinning a little.

"Sorry, baby." Her eyes grew sad at just those two words, "I-"

"I'll take her." Jack spoke up, and her face lit up as he looked to her, "I can take you to the park. Go get your shoes." I bounced a little in Leandra's haste to climb off the couch, grinning the entire way.

That was even more sudden. After what had _just_ happened with Chris taking her, he thought it'd be okay to take her out without me there? I stared at him incredulously, and he chuckled.

"Relax." He told me, "You need to recover, and she needs to run around. Simplest solution." He seemed so calm and collected about it, and this was the simplest solution. After all, I did agree to let him help me with Leandra by agreeing for him to move in.

I didn't want to make this into a big deal, but I really wasn't sure about him taking my daughter anywhere without me there. I didn't know him nearly well enough to trust him that far.

"She'll be fine." He assured me, standing up, "I promise." And Heather did say he was great with the boys. I'd have to take her word for it, because I was honestly nowhere near willing or feeling well enough to leave the house.

"Just to the park, Jack." I warned him, "Then right back here."

"She'll be back before nightfall." He replied, holding his hand up in an honest gesture.

Leandra came running back out, her shoes gripped in each hand, so I helped her pull them on. Giving Jack a look as he moved for the kitchen, but otherwise, no other protest from me.

"You be good for Jack, okay?" I told her, "Listen to what he tells you to do." She nodded confidently. We'd just see how this went.

I stood up, wincing as the movement renewed the pounding in my head. I lifted Leandra to me, and she grinned. Jack came back to my side. Pulling Leandra into his arms, and handing me a beer in return.

"Hair of the dog." He explained, "You'll feel better in no time."

"Take care of her, Jack." I couldn't keep the subtle tone of pleading from my firm voice.

"I'll take care of her." He assured me again, looking to Leandra, "Won't I?"

"Yup." Leandra agreed instantly, repeating the word a few times in her hyper state.

I couldn't help it. I had quite a few more beers than the one he handed me once they were gone. I was so sure I'd wind up on the news, wondering where the hell my daughter was when she never comes back, or sitting in the middle of some FBI investigation.

I had to admit, though. It was nice having the house to myself again, but I'd trade the silence to know that she was okay.

I must have fallen asleep there on the couch, because the next thing I knew, I had a toddler-sized weight landing on me, and the lamp was being turned on. I looked to my grinning daughter.

"I caught you, mommy, didn't I?" She giggled, "I caught you. Mama, I saw a duck today-"

My attention was grabbed by Jack.

"I know I said by nightfall," I looked to him, setting his keys down, "But she took her time eating dinner. Didn't you?"

Leandra just sat on me, bouncing a little and laughing at him.

There was still a little bit of daylight out, so I wasn't mad about that. Too relieved to be mad.

"Brought you something." Jack sighed, sitting down on the loveseat, "Thought you might be hungry."

Truthfully, I actually was. I knew I needed to eat something anyway to soak up some of this alcohol. The sandwich he brought was just the thing, and it really did help.

I talked to Leandra that night during her bath, the best I could with her attention everywhere at once. She never said a thing out of the ordinary about her afternoon with Jack, and the subject quickly moved to the soap bubble on the shampoo bottle, so I backed off the subject.

I shook my head, watching her try to 'drown' the rubber duck with her feet, then giggle uncontrollably when it popped back up. I just needed to stop being so uptight. If Jack had messed with her or done anything, she wouldn't be that happy. That, sitting in the bathtub, was a happy baby.

But there was one question I had. Where the hell had she seen a duck? There was no pond at that park, and I'd never once seen any ducks there.

Jack had been sweet the entire time I'd known him, but after that, it picked up. He showed me affection that I'd needed for such a long time. All without looking for reciprocation. It was odd to me, but I wasn't about to complain.

He was relentless when it came to the flirting and the compliments, but kept his distance. Probably sensing that I was unsure, but I didn't want to resist it. I didn't want to be lonely. Especially not with _him_ showing interest. Was I crazy?

He smiled at me, instead of frowning at me. He listened to what I said. My concerns, and he responded accordingly. Finally, I was having conversations with someone that didn't involve whether or not that person had to poop, or to stop finger-painting their little table top with spaghetti sauce. That was a very big deal to me.

And it showed.

I found Leandra's stubbornness endearing now instead of it making me want to rip my hair out. Leandra no longer even had a chance to get one step ahead of me. I caught her before she did anything she wasn't meant to do, and though it pissed her off, it pleased me to no end. I was finally outsmarting my two year old.

With Jack living with us, it took so much weight off my shoulders. I didn't have to worry about anything not working, or falling apart myself.

Though it was a big change, Leandra seemed to be doing well herself. She was finally catching on to the whole potty training thing, and had very little accidents anymore. The ones she did have were so few and far between, I was never irritated with her when she did have them. It wasn't her fault.

Finally, things around the house were starting to work. I made sure to keep extra watch on how Jack interacted with Leandra, but much closer on how Leandra interacted with him. I needed to know if there was just one reason I shouldn't trust this man.

She sure seemed to be adjusting well, and though it was slightly odd to me, I didn't mind the fact that Jack seemed to be protective of her already. I allowed him to take her out more often, slowly gaining confidence in the fact that he always brought her back. Normally, meticulously on time and generally in one piece.

There was one particular time where she'd fallen at the park and got a tiny scrape on her knee, but that was easily fixed with some peroxide, a 'mommy' kiss and a band-aid. I deeply, very deeply appreciated the fact that he brought her home immediately after it happened. I vowed then that I wouldn't doubt him again.

With him spending just a little under a month in the spare bedroom, it really didn't take as long as I thought it would for me to decide to move him out of the spare bedroom, and into mine. Roughly three weeks had won me over.

Leandra was moved back into her bedroom, and there for a little while, she had two parents again. Even if we weren't married yet, but I had a feeling that wasn't far off. He was sweet, affectionate, but still kept that rough side that I _really_ appreciated after bedtime. He never took it too far, keeping it handled, so I wasn't complaining. He was balanced. Almost surprisingly so.

Jack proposed three months after the divorce was finalized, and it never even crossed my mind to turn him down. All I wanted, was for Leandra to know stability. A stable home, a place to stand without things falling apart all around her.

It was a quick wedding. Hardly anything to write home about. We made a day of it. With Leandra. All three of us headed for the county clerk's office, and with Leandra on his hip, he signed, then I signed, and just like that. I was married again.

Of course, that was celebrated with much too much to drink, and once again, he was there with her while I recovered the next day. Taking care of her. Easing my worries even more.

That lasted about a month, when I did notice one thing.

A lighter bruise around her upper arm.

That was very concerning to me. I'd seen very few marks on her before, so it stood out to me, taking my full attention instantly. I asked her about it, and she said she fell. My suspicions grew.

I immediately asked Jack what happened, and he told me she'd been about to fall head first off the couch, but he caught her in a reflex. He was so sincere, and the bruise was so light. Hardly the palest color of blue. It didn't seem to bother her in the least, so I believed it. Reflex grabbing, there's very little thought behind strength, I reasoned, and with as strong as Jack was, it was easily understandable.

She was just the same as she always was. She wandered around just like any very near three year old would. Smiling, happy. She seemed to be doing great.

Until one day, she wasn't anymore.

I returned home from grocery shopping one evening, to hear Leandra crying in her room. She'd been perfectly fine when I left, so I was deeply confused.

As her mother, I knew immediately something was wrong. I'd learned her cries from the time she was a week old, and I knew this wasn't a tantrum. I'd heard her tantrum cries, and that wasn't it. She was mad about something.

I attempted to go to her, but Jack managed to stop me. He explained that she'd been acting out, and he had to spank her. I didn't like that, as I'd always swore I'd never have that happen to her. I'd never even swatted her little butt, but he assured me that she'd be alright.

Needless to say, I wasn't eased. I didn't want to just take his word for it. The second I could, I inspected her.

Over every inch of her, I looked. Closely checking her for any hint, any indication that he'd used too much force with her. I saw no bruises, not even a hint of one over her backside, or any other area. Her skin was white, no pink or red tinge to it. Physically, she was perfectly unscathed. Full pout mode and a little quiet, but physically fine.

So I backed off again.

I told myself that I needed to trust him. I married him so that she wouldn't be without a father in her life. If he was willing to discipline her without taking it too far, who was I to protest? Chris never disciplined her, so I understood that it had to be difficult for her. Hell, it was difficult for me to hand the responsibility of discipline over, but I had to. It was what was best for her.

The day of her third birthday, three months after marrying Jack, was the day I really started to question my choice. Had I really made the right decision? Had I chosen the path that was best for her?

I'd noticed a change in her before, but that day was the day I really saw it. Things I hadn't seen yet. She would be fine one moment, and the next, just crying her heart out. She was scared. I didn't understand it before, and I had thought it was only because things had changed, but then I noticed why she'd start crying.

Jack was watching her.

I was going to drive myself crazy trying to figure this out.

I confronted him that night. After she was safely in bed, and fast asleep, I openly asked him why she was so afraid of him. I still hadn't seen any bruises on her, or marks that would be cause for concern. Only her behavior. It was such a drastic change that raised a few red flags in my mind.

"Just be honest with me, Jack." I tried to keep my voice down, because to be honest, his passive gaze unsettled me. Any normal guy, guilty or not, would be nervous when I demanded something. They always were, but not him. He didn't even seem to care. I'd noticed it before, but never really felt intimidated before.

"I'll tell you what." He replied quietly, "Sit down, okay? I'll make us some coffee, and we'll talk. I don't want to fight with you about this, but I know you deserve a chance to at least talk it over."

That made sense.

He was being rational, which was something Chris never did. Jack seemed to understand the seriousness of my concern, and he wasn't avoiding the issue. I knew it was always better to try to discuss things like this with a calm, level head, and Jack did too.

I nodded, of course, and I sat down on the couch. I waited, somewhat impatiently for him to get in there and talk to me about this. By the time he finally did, I'd taken several deep, calming breaths. I didn't want to pounce on him if it was nothing serious. I was cautious about picking a fight, I'll admit. I didn't want another divorce for no reason. I was lucky to have Jack, and I knew that.

"Leandra is a stubborn girl." Jack told me after several silent sips of my coffee, "She sees things are different, and wants more of your attention. She doesn't want me to be in your life, and refuses to accept that I'm in charge of her. Some strange man suddenly correcting her? I'd freak out too."

That certainly explained why she'd cry when he was watching her, but that didn't explain why she'd be acting like this so suddenly. He'd been in her life for quite some time by now, and suddenly, she can't stand him looking at her?

He had more to say, so I just nodded slowly, keeping my eyes down.

"Keep checking her." He suggested calmly, "You won't find a mark on her. All it is, is she's confused. Pushing, testing." _That_ definitely sounded accurate. She'd been testing and pushing since she could babble. He continued, "She wants to know boundaries, and that's normal. If you're not strict with her now, it'll be harder to control her as she gets older."

I stayed silent. I was honestly a bit confused myself. She'd always been such a strong-willed child. Poking, prodding for a reaction from someone, and maybe, Jack wasn't the type to let that slide and she'd just figured that out.

Maybe all it was, was the fact that he was firmer with her than I was, and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. I really didn't want her growing up thinking she could just walk all over me, and maybe I just wasn't strong enough to teach her that. Maybe Jack was, and she didn't like that.

He sighed, "She's your daughter. If you want me to step back, I will, but choose right now. Leandra needs firm decisions right now, not inconsistency. She needs to know who's in charge around here. Her, or us."

He did have a point. The fact that he seemed to see that really told me he knew what he was doing. Against my better judgement and gut instinct, I replied.

"No." I said, shaking my head, "You're right, Jack. I'm sorry."

Really not wanting to fuck up a good thing by being overprotective, I backed off. I backed off quite a bit.

**A/N: Okay, so no warning on this chapter. I needed to move stuff around. The note will be at the top of four.**  
><strong>THANK YOU! To those that reviewed two! THANK YOU! I'm glad it's going well, as this isn't something I'm used to. :D THANK YOU! <strong>  
><strong>As I mentioned before, four will have the note we're all waiting for, and it probably should be heeded. It's not too horrible, as that'd be against the rules, but it's still worth mentioning.<strong>  
><strong>Until Four, my friends! <strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**ImPORTANT NOTE! READ ME!: Moderate descriptions of violence in this chapter. I won't classify it as mild, because I want to be safe.  
>Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to violence, as it's not very pretty.<br>*** **

**Chapter Four**

Things progressed quickly over the following several weeks, and I started noticing changes. Big changes. In myself, and in Leandra.

The stress suddenly steadily rose from that point forward.

I slept a lot more, and it really did take me some time to attribute that to the heavier drinking I'd gotten into the habit of doing lately, oddly enough. More and more often it was Jack taking care of Leandra. Jack getting her up in the morning and feeding her breakfast. I usually woke up by eleven to feed her lunch and stay with her through dinner, but was normally out again before her bedtime. Jack giving her a bath, and Jack putting her to bed.

It was confusing me just how far I'd backed off without even realizing it.

I didn't even know the things she got into in the mornings before I woke up, which bothered me. How easily this had become a habit started to bother me even more. My three year old, practically left alone. How the place was still standing when I woke up, I never knew, but I always found her sitting in her room. Playing with one toy or another quietly. Always greeting me the same way.

"Hi, mommy." Like I hadn't abandoned her the night before. It was when I finally came to get her out of her room that the hell truly started. She seemed quieter now than I was used to, but also louder in others. Much, much louder.

I watched her sleep one night, three years and almost four months old.

She'd had problems recently, tantrums for seemingly no reason. The reason behind my increased alcohol intake. It was either that, or flip shit.

Not just normal tantrums, either. Angry ones. Throwing things, hitting, kicking and biting. Several times breaking skin on me, when she'd never gotten into the habit of biting before. Breaking things for no reason, screaming at the top of her lungs, and I was at my wits end once again.

She just wasn't the girl I'd come to know anymore. She'd changed so quickly, it made my head spin. She would get so angry over the smallest things. Howling, bawling on the floor for at least an hour at a time for a reason I never found.

She'd get _so_ pissed, just drop right there to the floor, and the crying would start.

Not just normal crying. Nope. She'd keep it up at the loudest possible decibel level she could produce. Even louder if she found another deep breath. It would almost be impressive if my head wasn't constantly splitting.

The most concerning thing, however, was the fact that I knew these tears, these cries weren't fake. She was hurting, and I had no clue why.

She was mean, and having a three year old terrorizing me every one of my waking moments, every single day, things weren't going as smoothly as they were before. I couldn't understand it. Where was all this coming from?

As hard as I tried, I just couldn't wave it off as normal three year old problems, but Jack and Leandra's interaction never changed. From what I saw, he was still just as firm with her as he'd always been. No more, no less, but then again, there could have been plenty to miss, given the constant alcohol-induced haze I'd been allowing myself to hide in.

I ruled out her wanting my attention, because she ignored it as thoroughly as Chris had. Even refused to go to me, knowing I had every intention of attempting to calm her down. Cringing away from me, or I'd get something thrown at me instead, and she'd increase her volume to nearly intolerable levels, so I learned quickly not to try.

It wasn't the fact that she missed Chris, because she never even flinched when I asked if she wanted her daddy. Nothing could get through to her when she was like that. Nothing I did could calm her down, but Jack could. She'd be in the middle of one hell of a tantrum, and all he'd have to do is pick her up, and she'd stop. She'd struggle with stopping, but she'd stop.

She'd stop crying when he picked her up, and I'd immediately grab for another beer. If there was anything stronger available, I'd reach for that. I'd have had all I could take, and I admit, I relied on the alcohol so much just to get me through it. Every single time he shut her up, I thanked him repeatedly. Many times through tears of my own. It had been bad before, but this was different. This was constant torture.

She was so angry, and so heartbroken all the time, and I couldn't figure it out, but as concerned as I was, I could definitely understand now more than ever why some species of animals killed their young.

I'd finally gotten her to sleep after her latest fit, and though it was hardly five-thirty in the evening, she was asleep. Meaning, she'd probably be awake earlier in the morning than usual.

I stepped from her room, closing the door as silently as I could, only to find Jack placing a beer in my hand. My sixth since after lunch.

I was so stressed about her behavior, I accepted it. Gratefully. Five mega tantrums that day, two moderate, and three mini ones. How in the world did she even have anything left? Some days were better than others, obviously, but it was getting progressively worse.

She wasn't sick. She had no fever, and she ate fine. More than fine, and she wasn't picky. She wasn't hurt. No bruises, marks or anything at all to indicate anything wrong physically unless she caused them herself by accidentally bumping into the wall or something. She was sleeping through the night, as far as I knew. Having worn herself out during the day. Exhausted before the daylight was even gone on most occasions.

I was visibly shaken, three seconds from snapping myself.

"Take the day off tomorrow." Jack told me, "Sleep in. I'll handle her."

"I just don't know what's gotten into her." I was surprised to find myself in tears as I collapsed onto the couch, "I just don't understand it. How do I help her? What do I do? What did I do?"

"She's just confused." Jack sighed, sitting beside me, "She's showing you the only way she knows how. I'll take care of it. Don't you worry."

So I took his advice.

For a solid week, Jack stayed home with her, and my drinking increased. I hardly saw Leandra at all. She was always either in her bedroom over some kind of punishment, or I was asleep. Either asleep, or too sick to move. It was during that week that I really began to question where the hell my life had taken this turn. How did I wind up here?

I knew after that week was over that I needed to pull myself out of this pit before I couldn't anymore. I tried. Oh, I tried hard, but I really didn't want to go back to getting screamed at in toddler fury that I, by law, couldn't reciprocate.

So I stayed in a haze, but hesitantly left the safety of my bedroom. Nearly falling over several times, but I made it to the couch. Jack sat there as well, observing.

I grew nervous the second I saw her look at me from where she sat on the floor, and stand up.

Was it going to start all over again? Was she going to send me retreating back into bed? She seemed hesitant, though. Just as nervous as I was as she made her way to me. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out the confused look in her eyes.

She sniffled, "Mama.." Crawling her way onto my lap. It confused me, and bothered me at the same time to hear that from her. Wrapping my arms around her, but I had to admit that the way her sobs stayed silent was a welcome change.

She held onto me the entire time I allowed her to. I brought my hand up with a sigh, stroking her hair, but something was off. I looked to Jack with a dizzy frown.

"Why's her hair dirty?"

"A few days ago, she decided that she absolutely hates baths." He explained with a sigh, "And won't sit in one for longer than a few seconds anymore. Out of respect for you, I haven't really pushed it until you were here to see just how stubborn she is about it. I didn't want you to assume the wrong thing." That made sense to me.

"Oh." I mumbled, looking down at her, "Baby, do you want a bath?" Her eyes flew to mine and she immediately shook her head, "Come on. You need a bath."

She _instantly_ started to cry, about the same volume and intensity I was so used to. Almost blinding pain rippled through my head, and she fought from my arms with fury. Racing from the living room, toward her bedroom.

It did strike me as a little odd the way she so suddenly adamantly hated just the mention of the word, but not entirely too much. Kid's preferences and tastes changed all the time. I understood that.

She'd demonstrated that very same thing multiple times before by the way she used to love one food or stuffed animal, then almost overnight she'd hate it, or the opposite. Hating one thing, then suddenly loving it.

Jack sighed, standing up and following her. I knew by the sound that this was going to be one big tantrum, as Jack found her somewhere in her room, and her cries only intensified.

"Jack, it can wait." I called, one hand covering my eyes.

"No it can't." He replied from the hallway over the sound of her cries, "You can't give in every time she throws a fit, Gina. That's how she learns she can get away with everything." He was right, and I knew he was right, but the sound was nauseatingly loud, "Grab a beer. That'll help."

He turned with her tucked in one arm toward the bathroom. Her kicking and fighting the whole way. Sobbing out all her breath before breathing in deep, and going again. Wailing her displeasure. He kicked the door shut behind him, probably to keep a naked three year old from escaping or to keep the sound in the room, while I made my way toward the kitchen to follow his advice.

I heard the water start in the bathroom, and her cries only get louder. I didn't even move from the fridge before opening my beer and downing half of it. Then each new wail would have me taking another big drink.

My God, it sounded like he was killing her in there.

I took a deep breath, set down the beer bottle and crossed the kitchen for the bathroom. If she was in there crying for no reason, I was going to lose it. It would be easy if I'd seen Jack doing something. Then I could fix it, and stop losing my mind over it, but I'd never seen him raise a hand to her, so I seriously doubted she had a reason to cry with _that_ amount of anguish.

Pushing open the door, they both looked at me. Leandra waist deep in soapy water, Jack working quick to scrub the shampoo through her hair. The scene looked exactly the way it should look. He wasn't drowning her or ripping off her toenails. He was washing her hair. He was washing, albeit quickly, but not roughly, and she continued to wail like he'd set her on fire.

"Leandra." I hardly recognized my firm tone, "Now you stop that." She fell quiet for about three-point-two seconds, before she took a breath for another cry, but I cut that right off, "Stop it. That's enough, or I swear I'll blister your behind, do you hear me? Knock it off." I was even surprised at how my stern voice echoed in the room. I'd never used this firm of a voice with her before.

She reached for me with another loud cry, sobbing my 'name', but I was done catering to her spoiled rotten behavior.

"No." I scolded her, her falling silent again, "I mean it, Leandra. Not another sound." She whimpered, "Not one more sound."

"See?" Jack asked her, and she looked to him, "Didn't I tell you? Now fucking sit still. Let me rinse your head, and you'll be done."

I backed out of the bathroom then, shutting the door behind me. Fed up beyond all belief.

Her cries started up again the second the door was closed, and I knew that I was at the danger point. I knew that I needed to step back. Jack obviously had far more patience than I did, and he seemed more than willing to put up with her shit.

I loved my daughter. I did. I loved her so much, but I absolutely _hated_ the sound of her bawls and wails. I had one nerve left at that point, and it was either test its strength, or go back to bed.

Needless to say, I ducked back into the bedroom. Closing the door and leaning back against it. Just to breathe, I told myself. Just to calm down. I was overwhelmed, and I wasn't even the one dealing with her.

What kind of mother am I? I'd rather hide from and yell at my daughter than be with her? I surprised myself by starting to cry, sinking to a ball in front of the door. I loved my daughter so much it hurt, but I couldn't stand her behavior anymore. It scared me, which scared her, no doubt. It scared me because I didn't know what to do to stop it. I couldn't fix it this time.

I heard the moment Jack let her out of the bathroom. Her small, pounding footsteps as she came running at my bedroom door.

"Uh-uh." Jack called after her, "Get your ass back over here so I can cover it."

She sobbed outside the door, and I felt her attempts to open it, but with me leaned against it, she couldn't budge it. When she couldn't, she got pissed. I did recognize this cry. This was her irritated, frustrated cry.

"See that?" Jack was closer now, "She locked the door on you, because you wouldn't shut up." I heard her cries shift when he picked her up, "She's hiding from you again. Good job."

I couldn't blame him for telling her those things, because essentially, it was true. I was hiding from her, and maybe, if I hid from her longer, it'd stop the tantrums for no reason.

Take her, I begged in my head. Please take her to her room. I couldn't take it anymore.

I didn't even know yet how bad things could possibly be. That didn't come until I found the answers I needed. The answers that really explained everything. Call it a slap of reality. Wake the fuck up, Gina. Open your goddamn eyes! Your daughter needs you!

I'd known I needed to take another look the whole time, but it really became clear the next morning.

I woke with a start, dizzily making my way as quickly as I could from our bedroom. The sound my daughter was making scared me, but the sight I saw was worse.

Jack had her pinned over his knees, belt in his hand as she sobbed, screaming loudly. Even from where I stood, I could see the bruises on the backs of her legs under her nightshirt.

That panic was enough to clear my head. There was no haze left. A truly sobering sight.

"Jack!" My voice broke, "What the fuck are you doing?"

He ignored me as if I weren't even standing there. Bringing the belt down twice more over her backside before I could get to him. I shoved him as hard as I could, and he glanced at me once before delivering another blow.

"Stop it!" I shoved him again, harder this time, and trying to pull Leandra away from him. This time, I got a result. He turned sharply, whipping the belt at me and slapping me violently across the face to the floor. Even from where he was sitting, which was impressive.

Never having been hit like that before, it really was a jarring experience. One that wasn't easily recovered from. Especially not with having just spent however long in my own drunken haze. I vaguely noticed him push Leandra to the floor, dumping her off him so he could stand up.

Leandra cried, immediately getting up and crawling toward me. Jack shoved her back, kneeled beside me, and gripped my hair in both hands, pulling me halfway sitting up.

"Now, you listen to me." He murmured softly to me, "You wanted this for her, so you calm the fuck down. This is going to happen either way."

"I-I'm calling the police."

"You don't want to do that." He continued with his soft tone, "You _really_ don't want to do that. Without me, you lose _everything_. Without me, you lose your house and your child, because you traded your husband for me." I quaked in his hands, "My suggestion? Just pretend that you see nothing. That's the only option you have."

"J-Jack.." I whimpered, "She's just a child. Hardly three-"

"She's mine now." He told me, and I fell quiet, "You have no say anymore in what I do to her. You gave me permission to do this. You chose to hand over the responsibility, so now I'm taking it. Do you hear how I'm talking to you right now? That's good for her. She sees that I'm calm, and that calms her down. You don't want her upset, right? You don't want this tone to change. So.. Quit your crying. Leandra's watching you, and the more she cries, the more she gets."

He pulled me closer and kissed me. He wasn't the same person I'd come to know. I really wished I'd figured that out a lot earlier.

This so sudden, drastic change left me dazed. Confused, even as the aching pain in the side of my face told me exactly what I refused to see. I recalled suddenly what he told me the day I first met him. How ambitious he was. How he'd do anything to get what he wanted. With a sinking feeling, I realized what he'd been getting at.

How did I not see this coming? How did I never see that Leandra had reason to change? It wasn't _me_ he wanted. It was Leandra that he was after.

How did I not see the signs? The tantrums, the tears. The screaming, the fights and how mean she'd gotten so quickly. He might not have been leaving marks before, but he'd certainly given her a reason to change. If he was like this to her, I'd be just as scared as she was. I'd cry just as much. I'd be just as mad at me as she was.

Jack shoved me away, standing up again. I looked over, finding Leandra whimpering in the corner beside the end table and the wall. She seemed so confused. Jack stood there watching, so I did the only thing I knew to do.

"Come here, baby." I told her, sniffling myself and gesturing her forward. Hesitantly, she moved. Crawling across the floor, shrinking under Jack's gaze a bit until she reached my arms.

She cried into my shoulder. I pulled up the back of her shirt, looking over the darkening skin of her backside where the belt had landed. I kissed her head, rocking back and forth with her in my arms as I inspected each bruise. There were quite a few there, and some obviously older than others.

"You fucking bastard." I growled, looking up at him.

"You need me." Jack told me, "The more you try to stop it, the worse it'll get for her. Remember that."

"You son-of-a-"

"Ah, ah." Jack interrupted me, shaking his finger at me, "Now, look. Here's what I want you to do.." I waited, "I want you to distance yourself from her as much as you can in this shithole. Ignore her."

"I can't do that." I shook my head immediately.

"Can't?" He chuckled darkly, "Can't? You already have been, you stupid bitch. You'll just have to keep right on doing exactly what you've been doing. You hear me?" How could I not hear him? He was loud.

My mind was spinning as I tried to think, but he wasn't waiting. All he cared about was the fact that I hadn't answered him immediately.

He sighed, squatting down enough to grab a fistful of Leandra's hair, ripping her from my arms and trying to pull her into his. I shouted in protest as she squalled in pain, flying to my feet. I landed a decent punch to his face that sent him stumbling back. Despite my aching wrist and hand, I took Leandra in my arms and ran quickly for her room.

He caught a hold of my hair next, and I let Leandra down on her feet. Thankfully, before I could drop her in my pain.

She hesitated while I fought with Jack, standing there watching every movement. I had just enough time to see her eyes wide with fear before I hit the hard kitchen floor again after a rougher slap, immediately receiving a kick to my stomach after that. I lost my breath, rolling over slowly on the kitchen floor.

"Are you getting the picture yet?" Jack shouted down at me. Leandra shrank into a squatting ball in the hall, feet from me, and covered her ears. Just like she'd done the day Chris tried to take her. Jack circled me, "You want her to watch this?"

"It's better than going through it herself." I gasped, pushing myself up.

"Wrong." Jack replied, "She gets double what I have to give you. You can't stop it. You can't prevent it. You're fucking worthless, Gina. I'm going to do what I'm going to do, and you're going to ignore it. For the sake of your daughter. Understand?"

"Go to hell." I told him, standing up. He narrowed his eyes. Snapping a hold of my hair before I even had a chance to flinch, he dragged me further into the kitchen. I fought in his hand, but I was no match for him. He bent me forward, pinning my head violently to the counter.

"Get over here." Jack called back at her, "Now."

I hardly heard through the heartbeat in my ears as she made her way quickly across the kitchen. With his free arm, he reached down and lifted her up, sitting her onto the counter beside my head.

I flinched, shocked into a shriek as he suddenly found a knife in the drawer beside my hip. Flipping it around in his hand skillfully.

"Watch your mommy now." Jack told her, "She doesn't know how to play by the rules, does she?" I started to cry as he brought the knife closer to my neck. Leandra was watching! Was he really going to kill me in front of her? He wouldn't.

"Jack!" I sobbed just as I felt the thin, cold edge touch my skin, "Jack, please-"

He thumped my head against the counter, and leaned closer.

"Are you going to behave yourself?" He growled into my ear. I nodded as much as I could, sobbing breathlessly, "Good. Because I really don't want to have to kill you. It'd be messy, a whole lot of lying on my part, and not to mention having to explain to Leandra how you did this to yourself because you were sick of her."

I sobbed again as he emphasized his point by digging the sharp edge of the knife into my neck, just enough to split the skin.

He shoved away from me, reaching out and lifting Leandra. Holding her securely in his arms. She watched, sniffling quietly as I pushed myself upright. I hated the sight of him holding the knife in the same hand with which he supported my daughter's back, and she didn't even seem to notice.

"Tell her you're okay, grab a couple of beers, and get the fuck in that bedroom, Gina." Jack told me, pointing toward my bedroom with the knife. I set my jaw, clenching my teeth and reaching for her. He jerked her away, "Get going."

"Give me my baby, you sick bastard." My voice was really as strong as I could possibly make it. The truth was, I was terrified. For both of us.

He reached out, grabbing a hold of my face and yanking me forward.

"Don't make me tell you again." He growled, "You don't want that for her, do you?"

Leandra looked between him and I, her crying eyes wide. He obviously found something weak in my gaze, something weak about my personality if he would target us. How could I be so stupid? I fought the tears, averting my gaze from his before he kissed me and released me. Letting me pull back.

"Leandra." My voice shook, "I'm okay. I'm fine, baby. Go play in your room, okay?" How many times had I heard that from my own mother as she stood in the hands of my father? "Don't come out until I come in to get you."

She stayed quiet for a moment, "Okay, mommy." She was frightened, scared beyond belief no doubt, but she was going to listen to me. Thank God she was going to listen to me. Jack let her to her feet, and she walked off.

The second we heard her bedroom door close, Jack pushed me toward the fridge by the back of my neck.

"Grab a couple." He told me as I reached in, "I'm gonna get thirsty. You wouldn't believe how much causing pain turns me on."

I cringed, hating the thought of what he was saying, but I really had no choice. Although, the second my hand wrapped around the first bottle of beer, I knew I couldn't just let him do all of this to us. I had to protect my daughter.

Quickly, I jerked forward, away from his hand and spun, swinging the bottle for his head. To my surprise, I connected. The glass shattered against his head, showering the floor in liquid and glass over his shout of pain. He ducked away and I spun. Racing for Leandra's room.

It took me precious moments of searching wildly to find her. She was curled up, terrified against the wall. In the corner between her dresser and the closet door. I reached in for her, but she scooted back as much as she could.

"Leandra," I murmured as soothingly as my terrified voice could, "Come on, baby. We have to go." I just grabbed her wrist and tugged her to me, despite the cries of protest that started. I lifted her to me, standing up.

Turning around, I took two steps, before I looked up and froze.

I'd taken too much time, and now we were both trapped.

"She's done listening to you, mommy." Jack stood leaned against the door frame, one hand stabbing the knife into the other side of the door frame. Blood painted down the side of his face from a shallow cut on his forehead, but he smiled a little, "Now, hand her over, and I won't get pissed. Okay? Simple as that."

I hesitantly let her down onto her feet, expecting her to run back into hiding. I fully expected her to run around me, back toward the closet, but instead, she moved forward. Toward him. I attempted to stop her, but Jack restabbing the knife violently into the wooden door frame startled me into stopping.

She wrapped her little arms around his thigh, holding on as if he comforted her.

"You don't even know what you did, do you, Gina?" Jack chuckled at the surprised shock on my face, "Do you know how many hours are in a day? One full day." I stayed silent, "Twenty-fucking-four.

"Subtract about ten for her sleeping at night, and about one or two during the day for a nap, but for about twelve hours, she's wide awake, and she's listening. To every single word I tell her. See.." He sighed, reaching down and picking her up, "Kids, especially little ones, are very impressionable. Little sponges that soak up every little thing they see and hear. Their mushy little minds are easy to influence. Piece of cake, really.

"I didn't even have to tell her that her daddy didn't want her anymore. She observed that on her own, but as for you, you really made it too easy."

He sighed, looking to Leandra. She looked to him, unsure.

"I'm not asking for much, Gina." He returned his gaze to me, "Just a little cooperation from you, because like I said. I really don't want to kill you. You're a pretty good fuck, and I don't want to have to deal with the hassle, you know?

"You don't even have to drink anymore if you don't want to. That's your choice, but you do seem to love it so I'll provide it if you'll consume it." He continued, "I just need you to look the other way, because this kid seriously has some behavioral problems that I need to fix."

I stayed quiet, thinking hard about my options at that point.

"Look, I'm reasonable, Gina." His tone was calm again. Too calm for the situation.

_That's_ what bugged me before! That passive gaze, and his completely level tone that almost bordered flat, but solid. It didn't fit the situation, and instinct told me to be afraid of it, but I never listened.

"I'm reasonable." He continued, "I know the difference between too far and just enough. I'm not stupid enough to kill her." He looked to Leandra, who bit her lip with her eyes on me, "Just pretend you don't see anything, and we can all go back to the happy little life we were living before. Just give me time. There won't be one more tantrum."

I took a breath, "No, Jack."

He sighed, looking to Leandra again, "She just won't learn, will she?" Leandra stayed quiet, but still visibly frightened, "Do you want me to kill her?"

There was no way she could understand what he meant by the word. There was no way she should have understood. She was three and a half years old, but given her suddenly very panicked expression as she looked to him, she did understand.

"You don't, do you?" He asked, and she adamantly shook her head. He chuckled and looked to me again, "Like I said, Gina. You wanted this. You practically begged me to take her off your hands. I'm not taking her anywhere, but she's not yours anymore. Let's get that straight right now."

I'd have stormed forward by now, but with that knife so close to Leandra, I really wasn't willing to risk him hurting her. Either accidentally, or on purpose.

"I know where you sleep, you bastard." He only smiled.

"And I know where this little beauty sleeps." He reminded me, "You wouldn't want anything to accidentally happen to her, would you?"

"Nothing will happen to her when I kill you."

"You wouldn't do that." He replied, "This will be so much easier when you accept that I won. You backed off when you should have stepped up. That was your worst mistake."

"Did you put her up to those tantrums?"

"What?" He laughed, "Oh, no. She's not smart enough to follow instructions that detailed. No." He sighed, smiling at her, "No, she did that on her own. She was just _that_ unhappy. She's still pretty much a baby, after all. You'd think as her mother you'd have figured out that _some_thing was wrong."

He was right. I really should have. I never expected this, though. This was something so much worse than anything I'd ever imagined. If he could do this, what else was he capable of?

"Jack, if you've hurt her-"

"Now, now." He shut me right up with his own darkened tone, "Other than a few bruises, she's fine. She's not old enough to handle a real beating yet, mom."

"That's good to know." I replied bitterly, "But not what I meant."

He scoffed, seeming shocked, "Really. You'd think I'd do that? That hurts, Gina."

"I wouldn't put it passed you." I snapped in return.

"Nah." He replied, shaking his head, "She's fine. Aren't you?" She wouldn't know.

I needed options. First, however, I needed to get her out of his arms. I needed to get her away from that lunatic first. I'd go from there. I needed to shove aside the anger for just long enough. Play submissive. That's what he wanted to see.

"Let me hold her." My tone was significantly softer.

"Now you want to hold her?" Jack chuckled, "You could have held her yesterday, but you chose to yell at her instead." She sat there, biding her time by inspecting a button on Jack's shirt. Now that the voices had lowered, she seemed less afraid.

"I know." I replied, "And I'm sorry for that, but-"

"Sorry?" He asked, "Don't apologize to me, Gina. Apologize to her. She's the one you abandoned."

"I didn't abandon her."

"Didn't you?" He asked, stepping closer, "You made this _so_ easy, Gina. Everything you did only helped me. What's that say about you?"

"I-I.. I had no-"

"You'd have had an idea if you weren't so selfish." He replied softly, "And you know it. So selfish, so gullible, and so very easy." He transferred the knife to the hand of the arm holding Leandra, making me even more nervous for her safety, and he gently stroked my cheek with his free hand. He sighed, his voice now practically a purr, "I'm so sorry for hitting you."

"Let me hold my daughter, Jack." I couldn't deny, though. Leandra's eyes on both of us made it hard for me to stay angry. Knowing what my anger led us to.

"What did I say?" He snapped in return, his temper suddenly flaring and taking Leandra's attention as well as mine, "Whose child is this? Who does she belong to?" I was not about to admit that. There was no way I was playing along.

"She's my daughter." I snapped also, "She's not yours."

"Then you can go straight to hell." He replied simply.

"Jack, I'm not playing this game." I shook my head, "This is sick. Give me my daughter."

"She's not yours anymore." He corrected me firmly, setting her on her feet behind him. She clung to his leg again, peering around him at me as he continued, "The sooner you admit that, the better off we will all be. You belong to me, and she belongs to me. I own both of you."

"Bullshit. Give her to me!" I was getting fed up. I reached for her, instantly yanking my hand back as he whipped out his hand, the knife slicing through the skin on the back of my hand.

"Try that again." He growled as I brought my bleeding hand back to myself. He was obviously not playing around with that thing. It was a shallow cut, thankfully. The skin split, but not very deep, but I really didn't want to try for another one. Leandra whimpered nervously, and I knew she was scared. Keeping my eyes on him, I took a different approach.

Kneeling down, I looked to Leandra.

"Baby, I'm so sorry." I told her, "Come here, Leandra. Come here." She shook her head, hiding her face against Jack's leg.

"She won't fall for that, Gina." He replied, "I've trained her pretty good by now."

"I've never laid a hand on her." I couldn't understand it.

"True." He allowed, "You haven't, but you also haven't been the one taking care of her like I do. She depends on me, and that's how it's supposed to be. After all, without that dependence on me, where would I be?" I knew what he was getting at, "You need me, Gina. You know as well as I do that you have _no_body. Chris is long gone, probably having the time of his life with that slut he cheated on you with. No responsibilities, no problems. No kid to take care of, no bitch of a wife. I'm actually happy to take in his trash. Admit it. He got the better end of the deal, and you're in this for the long haul."

"I should have never-"

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty, baby. Sorry to say." He grinned, "Now stand the fuck up. You look like a whore on your knees. It's giving me ideas, and you're probably not in the mood to play."

"Fuck you." I growled, standing up.

"Maybe later." He chuckled, "Now look. I know you're pissed right now, and that's understandable but you'll calm down. In the meantime, Leandra and I are going into town. I feel a little bad for hitting her so hard this morning, so I owe her a toy and a trip to the park." She looked up at him, immediately drawn in by the words, "It's so easy to get back on a kid's good side."

He turned, lifting her. He strode forward as I stood there, speechless.

"Move aside, bitch." He told me, "It's what you're best at." He pushed me, and I stumbled away, toward the door. What the hell just happened?

"Why are you doing this?" I had to ask, "Why?"

He turned to look at me, another grin lifting the previous one, "Because I can."

I closed my eyes, shaking my head. I couldn't stand this.

He set her on her feet as he started looking through her closet for a sweater. I stood there for a minute, watching him dressing her. One piece of clothing at a time.

I saw an opportunity as he searched for socks. The only issue was getting her to come to me without him flipping out.

I kneeled down, gaining her attention. Before she could look away, I silently gestured for her to come to me. She stared at me, confused until I offered a small smile. She glanced up at Jack's back, before turning to me. I smiled again, nodding. Gesturing again.

She seemed less hesitant now, gaining confidence with each step. Just two more steps, I thought. Come on. Within arm's reach now.

I wasted no time. I hugged to her tight to me. Just holding her for a second.

Jack's movement triggered my protective side. He moved to turn around, so I just reacted. I held her tight to me, and stood up quickly. Lifting her up, scaring her into yelping.

I whipped around, sprinting like mad for the front door. Leandra whimpering loudly in my arms the whole way. I couldn't blame her. I wasn't gentle, clutching her to me as tightly as I could.

I was nearly there, the front door was within my reach, but somehow, before I could get to it, a hand twisted itself into my hair, and I was slammed up against the wall. My arms wrapped around Leandra shielded her from the unforgiving wall, but Leandra was being squished too.

Fear pounded through me with each beat of my heart.

"Drop her." Jack's once warm tone was now filled with ice. He allowed me to move back enough to do just as he said. She fell, trembling now, to her feet and scrambled quickly out from around me.

The second she was gone, I was shoved completely against the wall. Shuddering the wall, knocking the wind from me with a breathless cry. I was suddenly terrified. My strength was absolutely no match for his, which was saying something.

I tried my best to diffuse his temper, "J-Jack-"

I cut off with another, harder shove against the wall, "Shut up, bitch. Shut up and listen, because I won't tell you again."

I needed to lessen the pain. I reached back, trying to pull his hand from my hair. He caught my wrist, twisting it back behind me in a grip that threatened to break it, and my arm along with it. I sobbed against the wall.

"You're not listening." He warned, and his teeth clenched, "Pay attention."

I was completely stuck, so I had no choice but to stand there and listen.

"You wanna leave so bad?" He growled, "There's the fucking door, but if you _ever_ try to take her from me again, I'll snap your goddamn neck so fucking quick, you won't even know what hit you. Am I clear on that?" I panted in my pain. Giving a shriek of fear as he jerked me roughly before pressing me right back against the wall, "Am I fucking clear?"

"Yes." I sobbed. The pain was unreal. Nauseatingly intense.

"Good." He replied, his breath in my ear, "Because you know, some part of you knows that I'm not playing. Some part of you knows that I'm not joking, or bluffing. I _will_ do it, so listen to that part of you."

Somehow, the pain tripled, and I actually gave a fight. He yanked me roughly from the wall, spun me and punched me to the floor. My vision swam, so there really was no struggle to get up until he was suddenly over me. Straddling my stomach, both hands around my neck as he leaned down. Squeezing my neck as he lifted me a little to meet him half way.

"I don't think I'll need to warn you again." He murmured as I fought for a breath, "Will I?" I needed to breathe, but I knew to do that, I'd have to answer him. I looked over through tearing eyes at Leandra. Standing there, watching the whole thing. Though she seemed nervous, she didn't cry this time like she normally did with situations like this. She didn't cry. She just watched, and it pained me to realize that she was getting used to this. She was getting used to the violence.

Jack shook me a little, returning my attention to him.

"Will I?" He repeated his earlier question louder. I shook my head as much as I could, begging wordlessly for just one breath. He smiled, "Good."

With that, he kissed my mouth and dropped me to the floor. I coughed and gasped openly, bringing in much needed air as I struggled to push myself up. Jack already had her in his arms, both looking down at me on the floor.

"Jack, don't do this." I plead quietly, "Please. Please don't do this to her."

"It's already started, Gina." He chuckled in reply, "I can't stop it now." He looked to Leandra, "Say 'bye' to your mama. We'll be back later, and hopefully by then, she'll have gained some common sense."

"Bye, mommy." Leandra mumbled, still seeming concerned but a little more eased now. He stopped to gather the pair of her shoes by the door, but otherwise didn't pause.

Shaken, the second they were gone, I pulled myself up by the back of the love seat. Standing there for a minute, my hand over my eyes. I cried. I couldn't hold it back. I knew full well that I couldn't compete with that amount of violence. There was no way I could stand up against _that_ without failing.

I had to really focus to get some sort of understanding on this situation.

The thought of raising Leandra alone scared me. It really did. That was what led me to allow Jack into our lives at all. That was my first mistake.

My second mistake, was not listening to Chris, despite the fact that even back then, I'd known he was right. I didn't know Jack that well, and I ignored my better judgement in my desperate attempt to get back at Chris for hurting me.

My third mistake being my refusal to see what was right in front of me. When things changed for the better, it was awesome. I loved it, but I should never have believed them to last. I never should have turned away when things got hard. I should have stood up. I should have seen.

Instead, I let myself get overwhelmed, and hide from the situation. I _had_ essentially abandoned her to his selfish agenda. I'd abandoned her when she needed me most.

What did he even want her for? She was just a child, for Christ's sake. My entire view having shifted so completely, having it so turned around left me both confused and deeply afraid.

By the time he showed who he really was, it was far too late to do anything to stop it. Of course, I could always stab him in the neck when he came back, but what would that do? Would anyone believe that it was only in self-defense? In defense of my daughter? I doubted, and I couldn't leave her all alone. By either death or prison for murder.

Jack was right, despite how I hated that thought.

I didn't have anyone. Chris was long gone. My pride kept me from even considering trying to find him, anyway. I'd gotten us into this mess. What would I even say? Chris would do anything for Leandra. If I even mentioned that Jack had hurt his daughter, Chris would be in jail before noon tomorrow, and he had his own life now.

I should be in jail right now for defending her, but the truth was, Jack scared the living hell out of me. I was so afraid. I'd never had to face someone like him alone before.

I sobbed, sliding to the floor against the back of the love seat in full break-down manner. What were my options anymore? Attempt to run, or die trying? And if we do get away, where would I go? Winter was coming up fast, and I wasn't about to raise her on the streets. Realistically, that was where I'd end up. At least at first. Worrying about warmth. Worrying about food, or shelter.

Stay, and witness the destruction of my daughter? My beautiful baby girl in his grip for the rest of her life? He had her for whatever reason, and he wasn't letting her go.

I could only cry. That was my only option.

**A/N: That was hard to write. I cringed through most of it, and that's really saying something.  
>First, THANK YOU to my reviewers of chapter Three! YOU'RE AWESOME! :D THANK YOU! :D<br>Next, I'm sorry if parts of this seem rushed or choppy. A lot happens.  
>I'll be honest. I had to rewrite more than half of this, because it'd turned out differently in the first version, but I couldn't keep it that way. No matter how much I wanted to.<br>Chapter Five will take some time, since I have to rewrite it too, but with these shorter chapters, it won't take me very long at all. Chapter five may or may not be the final chapter. I haven't decided yet where I want to leave it yet.  
>Until Five, my friends! :D<br>**


	5. Chapter 5

**ImPORTANT NOTE! READ ME!: Another one, guys. I'm sorry for having to do this again, but there are mentions of adult themes and violence in this chapter. If you're sensitive to adult themes and violence, I'd proceed with caution.  
>Reminder: This fic is rated 'M'. <strong>

**Chapter Five**

I don't even know how long they were gone. I stayed sitting there for what felt like hours to me, just trying to figure out where the hell my life went so wrong. Going over every single notable moment in my life. Over and over.

Regretting deeply the day I picked up a beer instead of my daughter.

It was that first step that led me here. Facing an unlivable life, but with no other alternative. Nobody to call, nowhere to go. Whether I fought it or not, I would lose her.

His option began to make sense to me, but it felt so wrong.

He wasn't exactly killing her. Just spanking her ass, like I'd wanted to do so many times, but always decided against it. Maybe that's all he meant? Maybe he'd been raised in a more stern environment, and found that every other attempt was failing, so he'd be spanking her from now on? That made sense.

But the threats. That's what I couldn't get passed. His tone, his words. What he told me, how bad it scared me. This was so far beyond only spanking. It was so much worse than just that. I was still trying to wrap my head around it. The sudden, so sudden change still left me dazed. Like having the floor suddenly dropped out from under me, and I no longer knew where I stood. That bothered me more than anything else, surprisingly.

It was very clear that he meant what he said. There was absolutely no confusion about that.

If she got twice what he gave me, I had to choose my actions carefully. I had to think about her suffering more because of my attempts to free us, and that was something I couldn't stand thinking about.

Maybe, just maybe, by going along, he'd stay calm and leave her alone. She got double what he gave to me, so if he was happy with me, he'd be happy with her, right?

Yes. Keep they psycho calm until I could find a way out of here. Set aside money. Squirrel it away, and when the time finally came, run. Run like hell, and never look back. I'd figure everything out then.

So I picked myself up off the floor, and got to work cleaning the glass from the broken beer bottle off the kitchen floor. Mopping up the few droplets of blood that managed to fall, but there wasn't much there. I must not have hit him as hard as I thought I did.

Damn those bottles not being sturdier than they were.

In my nervous energy, I mopped the entire kitchen. Waiting for them to come back. Waiting for the moment when I'd have to start the act of a lifetime. Waiting for Jack to bring my daughter back to me.

By noon, I'd called every bank and loan company I could find, but only received bad news. Without any income of my own, I couldn't have a loan in my name. Jack would have to be the one to apply, since he was the one with the income. I couldn't list his income as mine.

I doubted heavily Jack would approve of me working again. That would give me access to options, and that's something he didn't want.

I could always make up an excuse to need the loan for him to apply for it, but the amount I'd need to start over would be suspicious. Not to mention the fact that I'd never even see the money that way. It'd go straight into his bank account, that I couldn't touch, and that'd be the end of it.

Renting an apartment in some random place, without being able to look it over was another issue. I definitely didn't want to stay in this place. It'd be too easy for him to find us. I'd need to go somewhere far, far away, and with a young child to consider, the place needed to be at least livable.

Then came the issue of being able to afford to live in that random apartment in that random place for longer than one month. I'd need to find a well-enough paying job to pay for rent, food, clothing, and bills immediately.

Then came the issue of hiring someone to be there to watch Leandra while I was at work. Sure, she was fine for three or four hours lately, but I was still in the house and had anything gone really wrong, she'd have known to come get me. All day alone? She'd need someone around. She couldn't stay there by herself. Not only was that dangerous, but heavily against the law.

It wasn't as simple as just picking up and leaving without a plan or a place to leave to. For at least right now, I was stuck.

With that realization out of the way, I moved on to doing laundry. I ignored mine, I ignored Jack's. Choosing to do Leandra's laundry first, but not before carefully inspecting each dirty pair of underwear I came across. For anything out of the ordinary. Suddenly deeply grateful for the fact she no longer needed diapers.

I found nothing out of the ordinary, however. Which wasn't as much of a relief as I thought it'd be. It didn't ease me.

Shaking my head, I started the washer just as the front door came open.

Nearly knocking into the kitchen counter in my haste to get to the living room from where I was, I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw my daughter.

Ignoring Jack's presence for now, I kneeled down as she didn't hesitate this time in coming to me. For the first time in so long it felt like, she was happy to see me. Happy to let me hug her.

"Look, mama." She told me, turning a little in my arms, "I got a doggy." Thank goodness it was stuffed. It was this smaller, floppy brown and white thing that she held up, but I didn't pay much attention to that.

I hugged her tight, cuddling her to me, which seemed acceptable now. To both Jack and Leandra. Like nothing had ever happened.

"Oh, good." Jack spoke up, "Laundry. Do my work shirts, would you? I go back on Tuesday."

"Sure." I grumbled, and he looked to me, "Yeah, I'll do them for you. I was already planning on it, anyway."

A slow smile spread across his face. He gave me a nod, but not a word. If only he knew how badly I'd rather set those work shirts on fire, with him in them, he probably would have said something, but I'd keep that to myself.

Instead, I cuddled Leandra closer, "That's a nice doggy."

"He bites." She warned, "He bites if he gets mad, so we gotta be careful and not make him mad."

"Oh, okay." I agreed, "We'll be careful."

"His name's Jack." She told me, and that bothered me. I narrowed my eyes, looking over. On the couch, Jack chuckled. Finding that amusing, but I really didn't.

"Kids these days." He muttered, shaking his head.

"Mommy." Leandra took my attention, patting my hair until I looked at her again, "When are you leaving again?" Leaving? I frowned.

"I'm not going anywhere." I told her, and she frowned this time.

"Yes you are." She replied, "You're gonna leave again, just like before. 'Member?" What was she talking about?

"I never left, baby."

"Yes, you did." She sighed, frustrated now, "You did leave. You did."

"She's talking about your binge drinking, Gina." Jack finally explained from the couch, "She considers that leaving her, and I don't blame her."

"Oh." I muttered, "Baby, I'm not going anywhere again."

"Yes, you are." She replied, positive. The sure way she looked at me worried me. Frowning again, I looked to Jack. He held his hands up in an innocent gesture.

"The kid says shit like that all the time." He told me, "Don't look at me. She's just weird."

Leandra let it drop, though. Moving back to the subject of her dog, and how soft it was.

I thoroughly inspected Leandra myself the second I got her alone. She didn't seem to mind too much letting my get my look, but I wouldn't rest until I knew whether I had to murder him anyway. If anything was missing or even slightly out of place, I'd be stabbing him in the face repeatedly until I was forced to stop long enough to call the police, then continue until they got there. I just knew if he'd been up to anything he shouldn't have been, there'd be some sign there.

It still made me dizzy to think about how just a few days ago I could trust him completely. Never suspecting a thing. How I suspected him of everything now, just by watching him spank her.

"Do you believe me now?" His voice in the doorway made me jump, "I told you. She's fine."

He did seem to be telling the truth.

"You think I'd deny anything at this point?" He asked, and I ignored him. Sighing as I watched her sit up, "Besides. I told you I don't wanna kill the kid." I looked back at him, "I have a few.. Quirks I'm not proud of, but just because you know about them now doesn't mean anything has to change."

"Go to hell." I glared.

"Oh, I'm sure I will." He chuckled, "I've had a reservation there for quite some time. Long before I even met you. See, Gina, this is my element.

"Things earlier would never have gotten as bad as they did if you hadn't fucking flipped out on me like I was murdering her. I gave her a few good, solid whacks and she cried. So what if she bruised a little bit? That wasn't my fault." When he said it like that, in that tone, it really did make me feel a little stupid, "I have a temper, Gina. A bad one. I'll be the first to admit that, and yes, I said some things I shouldn't have said yet, but look. Now it's all out in the open."

I sighed, shaking my head, "Jack-"

"Look." He insisted, "I mean, really look." He took her arm in his hand, standing her up on the bed. Turning her back to me to give me a good, calm look at her bare behind.

The redness had faded, and despite the way the bruises I did see made me want to rip his throat out with my bare hands, it really wasn't as bad as I originally thought. They were darker, slightly purple. Just a few shades darker than the bruises she'd accidentally give herself during her tantrums, but much bigger. Across both cheeks, and over her right hip where he'd had more access.

"Did I break anything?" He asked me pointedly, "Can she no longer walk? Or sit? Is she on the floor writhing in pain? I admit, I got a little rough, but you _know_ I never would have if you hadn't freaked out. I would have given her those whacks, and that would have been the end of it."

"That's just it, Jack." I muttered, "You did get rough. You got very rough."

He sighed, looking down.

"I don't want that for my daughter." I continued, "I don't want her seeing that. She deserves better than that." And I really didn't want to die at the hands of a lunatic. Knowing that was definitely a possibility was a very scary realization.

Beside us on her bed, Leandra got tired of standing and sat down. Cuddling her new stuffed dog to her. Jack sighed, turning to me. I eyed him warily, but his expression was calm again. No longer mean, or angry.

His hand came up and softly brushed my cheek, his gaze apologetic and I knew I'd bruised as well. I hadn't even thought to survey my own damage. Far too preoccupied with other things the entire morning.

"I'm sorry." He murmured softly to me, "I'm sorry, honey. I guess I get a little carried away when someone tries to take what I love. I don't want anything to change, and I know you don't either. It doesn't have to. It'll still be like before, if you can just forgive me."

"No." I whispered, but my voice wasn't near as strong as I needed it to be, "No. Not after what you did." But he was right. I desperately didn't want anything to change, because when things were going right, they were amazing. Better than I hoped they'd be.

"You only saw the end of it." He explained, "You didn't see what she did."

"What could she have possibly done to deserve that kind of treatment?"

"It'll be hard to explain-"

"Try." I hissed through clenched teeth.

"Okay." He murmured, "Well.. She was really pissed this morning, and I don't know why. I'd endured over an hour of this particular tantrum, but that's not even it. I was in the kitchen, trying to fix her something to eat, thinking maybe that'd calm her down, but she's smart. She not only tried to stab me in the side with a screwdriver, but threw it at the window and shattered it."

That surprised me, and I looked to Leandra.

"Have you seen it?" He asked, "Come on."

He gently took my hand, and led me from the room. He pulled the curtain in the kitchen to the side, and sure enough, a giant spidering crack sat up in the right-hand corner of the glass. Definitely an impact break, more than likely caused by something being thrown. It was very convincing. If Jack had thrown anything himself, the window would have broken much worse than that.

I hadn't seen it. It being hidden behind the curtain the whole time.

"Just to prove it further." He told me, "Leandra, come here." We waited, and moments later, a still pant-less Leandra came from her room. Coming to his side, looking up at him. He spoke to her, "Can you tell your mama what happened to the window?"

She immediately looked down, "I broked it. I didn't mean to, but I did."

He spoke up again, before I could say anything, "And can you tell her where we went today?" She hesitated, obviously thinking. Humming quietly in thought before she raised the dog in her arms, "Before that. What did we go get?" That seemed to jog her memory.

"A new one." She answered, "A new window."

Jack chuckled, "That's right."

"From a big place with lots of wood and stuff." She continued, "I couldn't go nowhere. I'd get lost."

I sighed, "Alright, Jack, but that still doesn't excuse-"

"I know you're still upset with me." His tone was smooth, soft now. Back to the warm tone I was so used to, "And I can't blame you after everything I said, and I won't try to take it back, but I did mean what I said. I can't stand the thought of you taking her from me."

Instead of answering him, I looked to Leandra.

"Are you hungry?" I asked her, and she hesitated again before she shook her head.

"I wanna sit now." Leandra told us, "I'm gonna sit now."

"Go sit, baby." I replied, "It's okay." She nodded and turned. Her bare feet slapping against the floor that I was very glad I cleaned now on her way back to her room.

"She had a late breakfast." Jack informed me, and I nodded a little.

About half an hour of quietly talking later, we both checked on her to find her out cold on her bed. Fast asleep with her butt up in the air. I was glad to see the bruises weren't hindering her sleep-acrobatic tendencies any.

I stood there in the doorway, listening to the sound of her deep breathing. Listening for any sort of instruction in the sound. I loved that sound. I lived for that sound, Leandra's contented breathing. It meant she was okay.

Truth was, I was pretty wiped as well. I wondered strongly as I stood there watching her how what she saw today would effect her. Would she remember it when she was older? Would she even care about it tomorrow? I looked to Jack as he looked to me, and he slowly pulled her door closed until it was open a crack.

We now stood there in the hall. He reached up, and by the way I didn't move away, he could see I was torn. He lightly cupped my cheek again, "I'm sorry."

His soft tone really was getting to me. It was melting my resolve like acid.

"Jack." I plead, and I knew he heard it.

"I lost my temper, honey." He softly told me, cupping the side of my neck now, "I didn't mean to." My tears started at about that time as he placed his forehead lightly against the side of my head, "I'm so sorry."

I couldn't do this. I was already so torn, so confused. I just wanted it to stop. I looked to him, searching for anything, and got nothing but the sincerest expression in his blue eyes.

"I promise, Gina." Jack murmured softly, kissing my nose, "I didn't mean to hit her that badly, and I swear it'll never happen again." I cried softly, and reaching up. Placing both hands over his hands on my cheeks. He kissed my nose again, before he kissed my lips softly.

The fact that I didn't bite him made him braver, obviously, as he moved closer.

I used to consider myself tough. Confident. Strong enough to handle any man, and normally, I was. My mother had made sure that we understood that what our father did to her was wrong, and I swore to myself so long ago that I'd never wind up in her place. Now look at me.

Jack had taken that confidence and that strength so easily. Leaving me feeling very vulnerable now, and afraid. He'd taken who I was before, and turned it around and upside down like it was the easiest thing in the world.

In about fifteen minutes, he'd broken me like someone would break a horse. Somehow intensifying that dependence on him while doing so. The absolute worst part of the entire situation had to be the fact that I knew this. I understood what was happening to me, and what he'd done by doing what he'd done, but I couldn't find my resistance anymore.

What would my mother have done? She would have stayed, because it wasn't me or my brother that our father was after. My mother made sure of that.

She'd died, long ago, but I couldn't help wishing now that I could talk to her, and ask her about any possible options for me. I had to keep Leandra safe, but I was terrified of making another big mistake like I did with Chris. An impulsive decision that would land me in an even worse spot.

Was settling for this all I had to look forward to?

"But look." He spoke up again, "I did something for you, believe it or not." I frowned in confusion, "When was the last time you could hold her without wanting to run away?"

This was true.

"Before yesterday or today, when was the last time she let you hold her?" He asked, continuing his point. I sighed.

"I don't want to start over." I admitted quietly, "I don't want to leave."

"Then don't." He replied, "Stay here with me."

"But no more belts, Jack. Please." I looked up at him, and he smiled a little, "Use your hand if you have to, that way you know how much force you're using, but no more weapons."

"It'll depend on what she does, but I'll only use it if the crime fits the punishment."

That was as good of an agreement as I was getting. When I didn't say anything, he took the opportunity to gently kiss each wound he'd given me. Each bruise, and both slices in my skin. Murmuring, "I'm sorry." After each one.

I was giving in. I was caving. I was not condoning it, what he'd done, but I wasn't protesting it. I saw it plain as day. As easy as he said it was to manipulate Leandra's mind, he was doing the same thing to me. I saw it. I watched it happening, but I couldn't do anything about it. My fear of trying to start over again swayed my decision.

I heard once that some women were just designed to forgive.

They were so empathetic, so easily drawn in and wanting to fix everything when someone was hurting, because they cared too damn much. Most were natural mothers. Some were soft. The equal to a man's rugged nature. The soft partner to their hard personalities, so when someone they cared about was hurting, they forgot about their own pain in attempt to ease the other's.

That's why things like this worked.

"Okay, Jack.." I whispered, my eyes closed, when he started the round of kisses again, "Okay." I looked up at him as he leaned back.

He grinned like I'd made him the happiest man alive just by agreeing that I wasn't going anywhere, and he hugged me tight.

Of course I'd made him the happiest man alive. I wasn't stupid. I knew what this meant. It would happen again. I knew that with absolute certainty. I just didn't know how, or when.

He was content, though. That meant at least a few days of peace between now and the next time. Keep the lunatic happy. Right then, though, I didn't have any other choice _but_ to keep him happy.

I'd still be stashing away money, and I'd still settle on a place to start looking for apartments. One day, we'd leave. We just had to hold on until then.

By the time Leandra wandered out, seeming a little lost at how long of a nap she'd had, Jack and I were both sitting there talking. She wandered over to me, full sleepy pout mode and insisted on my lap becoming available.

She looked up at me, and her eyes told me exactly what I already knew. She couldn't possibly understand what was going on, and she was confused, but I couldn't help her there. I couldn't explain my own confusion.

I couldn't help wondering exactly what she'd grow to be like if I made this decision now.

I was nervous, and though I did understand why, I denied it. I didn't want to know, to see. I wanted to stay blind to it, despite the way I could see in her eyes just how confused she was, and just how much she was expecting from me.

I turned away. I looked away from those big green eyes. Cuddling her closer, but I couldn't look at her anymore. I knew she watched Jack closely after that. As if sleeping was enough to help her realize a little more what had happened earlier in the day. She might have been little, but she understood that he was dangerous.

The days passed in tension from then on. It wasn't the nerve-wracking crying this time that made the days tense. It was waiting, trying to expect the unexpected.

The very next morning, she was obviously not feeling well or extremely tired. I'd asked her what was wrong, and she refused to answer me. The only real movement I saw from her was the moment Jack woke up, and that was to run for her room. Confirming my suspicions the day before.

I couldn't blame her, so I let her leave.

Leandra wasn't the same. I noticed a difference right away. I wasn't exactly expecting her to be the same as she was before after that day, but watching her during the day again made me see just how much she'd changed.

Instead of getting up and moving around endlessly like most children her age should, she chose to sit quietly, and I began to realize why.

It took me few days to understand.

She didn't have the energy she usually had. She hardly ate anything, which worried me a little. Maybe a bite or two of something before she was done with it.

It wasn't her being picky, as she eagerly ate those bites, but tore herself away and ran off before she could have any more. At first, I tried calling her back, but she always refused. I knew she had to be hungry, but I didn't want to try forcing her to eat. She'd eat when she was hungry enough. Of that, I was sure.

She mentioned my intention to leave her twice more, and I never heard it again. That had to be Jack, filling her head with lies to torture me even more by using her to do it.

She would still have a tantrum or two during the day, but they'd been cut back significantly from the frequency and intensity they were before. Usually in the mid-afternoon when she was tired. Something would easily frustrate her, and it'd be too much.

Those tantrums, I could understand. Those weren't intolerable, and those weren't violent anymore. Those were crying, still sobbing but no longer the loud, animal wailing she used to do. Those were the ones that died out when I'd put her in her room, and she'd be asleep before she was in there too long. Easily fixed with a nap, just like I was used to.

Once he started work again, Jack would come home right on time nearly every evening, and she'd run, but she'd settle down from there.

Until bath time.

That was the one major fight of the night, because that stayed. That's when she'd kick and bite again. She absolutely hated anything having to do with the bathtub.

She'd fight me heavily, until she was in the water. Then, like magic, she'd settle her ass right down and not move again. When Jack gave her a bath, she fought him the whole time, as I chose to stand and observe from the doorway once he got her into the water.

He never did anything inappropriate to her. He'd talk to her, but that never helped. Even let her use the bubble-bath every night, but that never helped. Piled all the rubber toys he could into the water, but that never helped. It puzzled me why she'd settle down for me, without me having to put forth extra effort like he did, but not for him.

I couldn't figure out what the difference was. She flat out _hated_ it.

He scoop her out, usually still howling, and bundle her in a towel as he carried her for her room. Shaking his head the whole time. I'd watch him dress her, too. Just to be sure. She'd cry heavily until the final button on her pajama top was in place, sniffle, then stop.

But no matter how often she threw those fits like that, he never backed off. He never stopped volunteering to be the one to give her a bath. I couldn't help but admire his resilience in that regard.

I openly asked her about it, about why she hated baths so much, but she never answered me. Physically, she was fine. Not hurt in any way aside from the still-healing bruises on her backside, but they shouldn't hurt her that much, and these nightly fights started before she was even bruised.

It did concern me. I was concerned by her new little personality. She would speak only when she felt like it. No longer just on her own, and more often than not, not even a direct question could get her to talk. Observing me doing one thing or another around the house, silently watching me. Still clinging to that damn dog. That reminder of the day I hated most.

I understood why she liked it so much, but I wanted to watch it burn in the sink. That stuffed dog was the sign that everything had settled down, and was okay now. It comforted her the second she had it, so she wanted to bring it with her wherever she went.

I went looking through her toy box after deciding that the dog needed a good wash, but found something odd. More than half of her toys were missing. I'd mentioned that we needed to thin out the bulk of it, as most of her toys were for really little ones, but some of the missing ones weren't.

"Baby," I turned, looking to her on her bed, "Where are your toys?"

"I don't like them anymore." She replied, inspecting an unknown tiny crusty spot on the dog's back.

Oh. I gave a little shrug, accepting that. Maybe she just outgrew them, and Jack took them to be donated for me. Cool.

I found an old teddy bear, flattened toward the bottom of the box, and pulled it out. I remembered this teddy bear, fluffing out his fur. Chris had given her this bear when she was about six months old, and used to be the bear she went to and dragged around most.

Perfect.

"Leandra," She looked up, "Do you want to play with him?" I offered the bear to her, and though she did recognize the bear, she shook her head, "Just for a little while. I'm sure he misses you."

I needed to get that damn dog out of her arms long enough to wash it. It was getting gross and flat.

She fell for it after a few seconds of debate, but the second I picked up the dog, she flipped out. Her tantrum lasted until it, fresh from the dryer, was returned to her about an hour later.

"See?" I told her as she took it from me, "Now he's clean." Now she realized her dog wasn't gone forever, and I hadn't been lying to her. She sat up on her bed and nodded a little. Maybe next time it'd be easier to get from her.

Sometime during the night, she started to develop a cold, which concerned me. It took about a day to fully get there, and I knew then that it was a pretty bad one.

Complete with a moderate fever, that I had to monitor every few hours or so. Her cough was horrible, and she really didn't feel very good for days, so I cuddled my contagious baby. The cold medicine I gave her, though, would make it nearly impossible for her to stay awake.

I felt so bad, because she wanted to stay up, but I also knew she needed her rest. Though it was funny to see her be falling asleep while sitting there, constantly jerking herself upright and awake when she'd start falling over, I'd finally give in and carry her to bed. She complained for about thirty seconds once she was in bed, but after that, silence.

And due to her increased clinginess, I caught it from her, so I spent about a week sick myself, but still helping Leandra get through the end of hers. She never got sick very often, so I didn't see the harm in babying her the best I could.

The last time she got sick was just after her three-year-well exam from the doctor almost a year before. She'd been doing good then. A little upset by the two shots she needed to get, but otherwise, she was fine. This cold was only slightly worse than that cold, so I wasn't very worried. Just concerned that she didn't feel good.

I'd attributed her lack of appetite to the developing cold, but when it didn't pick back up, it remained a mystery.

I was good. I stayed away from the beer that week. I never even looked at it or even gave it much thought. Too wrapped up in helping Leandra get better.

Until Jack came home from work one day, particularly agitated and insisted on having one. He brought one for me as well, and I knew if it was something bad enough to piss him off this much, I shouldn't refuse it.

He never over-did it. That was his thing. He knew exactly where his limit was, and stayed well away from it.

Me, on the other hand, my limit loved to lie to me. That was my problem, and probably something I inherited from my father. I could have a few drinks, several beers at once, and feel a little dizzy but completely fine. Until suddenly, I'm not fine anymore, and I hate myself for over-doing it.

For as long as I could remember, my dad was the same way. Except he wasn't the kind to sleep it off until he'd had a good rage fit. My brother and I sometimes did hit the floor because of it, but normally, it was my mother. My father wasn't a very likable person, and I still remembered clearly the night we were told he'd died. The odd mix of emotions I felt.

I didn't have any rage problems that I knew of. Just very irritated at Jack when he let me have too much. When he insisted on me having too much.

I resisted the second and the third beer he handed me, but at his insistence, I drank them. By the fourth, I didn't give a shit anymore, and had completely stopped listening to anything he was saying by the time I stared at my fifth.

Once I was gone enough, I didn't resist anymore. Jack knew this, no doubt, so just kept supplying them. I lost count after seven, and eight was puking one. Thankfully, Jack had thought to move me to the bathroom at about that time, turning the light off in the master bathroom and closing the bedroom door on his way out.

Alcohol is a very powerful and heavy thing. It's a poison, really, and why anyone would choose to ingest it at all was beyond me. Not only was it very harmful, in every conceivable sense of the word, but it was very easy to rely on if you have too much. It was easy to rely on it for just about everything, because in someone's mind, the pain it causes is worth it just to escape everything.

So just like that, I was back in my rut. Hiding myself away for majority of my time. I could still move, but had lost the motivation.

This was how depression was introduced.

Why bother, I asked myself. Why try? Sooner or later, no matter how hard I tried, I'd wind up here again eventually. Nothing would change, no matter how much effort I put into it, so why bother?

The answer to those questions would come cuddle silently with me in my bed for most of the day, but would suddenly disappear when Jack arrived home. As if his very presence chased her from my side, she'd scamper away as quickly as she could.

Finally, in all my twenty-four years, I'd found someone with a stronger will than I had.

Leandra could easily pick up on my mood, no doubt. She could see what was happening to me, though I doubted she could understand, so why it surprised me when she acted the same way, I'd never know.

I'd visit the living room as Jack was just walking in the door. Picking stuff up in a half-hearted attempt to be happy to see him. Leandra could be found in her room. Laying on her bed in just the same position I was in all day long.

I never connected the two.

When that continued for several days, I expressed my worry to Jack. She lay on her bed, well before bedtime, just inspecting her stuffed dog.

"Maybe I should start giving her some vitamins or something." I mused, "She's been like this all week. She just seems.. I don't know. Out of it."

"Maybe she had one too many like her mommy." Jack chuckled with a shrug. I gave him a look. As unsteady as it was. Truthfully, the thought scared me. She wasn't even four yet. What would happen if she were to try this stuff, because she saw me with it every day?

"Aw, I wouldn't worry too much about it." He moved over, standing behind me now with both his hands on my upper arms. He started kissing lightly on my neck, and I allowed it until Leandra looked over at us.

"Stop." I laughed.

"It's okay." He told me.

"She's three years old." I playfully shoved back him, "Not three months. She's not stupid."

Though I knew I should stop it, I sure didn't want to. It felt nice to be loved on like this, and it had been awhile since I'd felt up to it.

He ignored what I said, continuing on. Listening to my tone, rather than my words. I turned to face him, to put a stop to it, and he trapped me against the doorframe. I laughed as he started again on my neck. Biting this time. When he bit, he meant business.

"Um.." I spoke up, making my voice as steady as possible, "Leandra, honey.. Can you stay in here for awhile? Until I tell you it's okay?" She nodded a little, watching in what looked like confusion. I couldn't blame her. I'd be confused as hell too.

"Good girl." I told her, shoving against Jack again. He chuckled, grabbed my hips and spun. I barely managed to close her bedroom door rather roughly before he was leading me toward our bedroom. Me giggling the entire way.

It never ever occurred to me that she would follow.

There were two ways into our bedroom. Through the bedroom door from the living room, and through the master bathroom door, accessed through the back hallway where the washer and dryer sat. I always made sure to lock that bathroom door, but oddly enough, it wasn't locked this time.

I didn't even notice her crouching there, watching us until we had progressed pretty far. With a start, I shoved up at Jack, but the second she noticed me notice her, she turned and ran.

"Dammit, Jack." I grumbled, "Stop."

"Just forget it." He kept going, "She's been there awhile."

"And you didn't say anything? You just let her keep on watching?" Imagining the things she must have seen from her vantage point was what did it. I was mad now, completely out of the mood, but he wasn't letting me up. Going as far as pinning my wrists.

"Whatever she saw isn't going to be fixed by talking to her immediately." He growled, "She's three fucking years old. She'll probably forget it by tomorrow. Now just shut up for a few minutes, then you can go." I didn't appreciate that, but there wasn't much I could do like this.

"Get off of me, you fucking asshole." I told him firmly, and he just chuckled. _Fuck_ no. I wasn't having any of that. So I struggled. How I managed to fight him off, I don't even remember, but I did. I got my feet right in the position for leverage I needed, and kicked him not only off of me, but off the bed as he landed on the floor.

"Jesus, Jack." I growled, standing up, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He wasn't done though. I could see it in his glare that he was mad now.

"When I tell you to get off of me," I told him, still firmly, "You get off."

"I plan to, bitch." He caught me around the stomach, throwing me back onto the bed, "Now just shut up, would you?"

I was even more mad now myself. Oh, I was pissed, but there wasn't anything more I could do about it. He made sure to keep me from kicking him again, unfortunately. So I just gave up. It'd go a lot faster that way, I knew, so why bother? He didn't even seem to care that I never even looked at him.

The second he let me up, I flipped over and slapped him across the face. Climbing off the bed and grabbing for my sweatpants in a series of furious movements.

"I deserved that." He laughed at my turned back, "Hey, when you get done talking to the brat, get your ass back in here for round two. Bring me a beer, while you're at it."

I did my best to ignore that. I also did my best to resist the urge to beat him upside the head, and not just for being a pig.

There was a more pressing issue.

How was I even supposed to address that with her? She'd seen quite a bit if she'd been there awhile. God, she must be so freaked out. I was freaking out _for_ her.

By the time I finally got to her room, she was already in bed asleep. Either asleep, or ignoring me. Which seemed to be happening a lot lately. Her back to the door, I didn't want to press it if she didn't want to talk. I was humiliated enough.

So I let it drop. She didn't come out of her room for the rest of the night.

I skipped my morning three beers the following day, in case she would bring it up, and I'd need to make something up on the spot. When she never brought it up, I didn't either. I knew I probably should have said something about what she saw, but what was there to say?

So I caught myself up after making a lunch that she didn't eat. Setting the plate in front of her, and with the way she only looked at me, I was surprised to find it irritated me.

"Eat it or don't." I muttered on my way out of the kitchen.

After that, the days blended together, and I knew I needed to stop, but each time I woke up, and I was a little more numb than the last, I just kept on.

I stopped caring after some time, and I knew there was something important I needed to remember, but it was so difficult to. It hurt my head to think too much, so I just had a cigarette and another beer, and went back to sleep. Conveniently, there always seemed to be one sitting on the table beside me.

I lost track of how much time had gone by since I'd last saw or heard from her. I lost track of time completely. I was sure I had to have seen her at some point, but I was always so wasted, I just couldn't remember it.

I had no idea how long I'd been in this rut. This repeated loop of self-destructive behavior, but I didn't care anymore. I should have cared. I should have cared a whole lot.

I'd stumble to the bathroom when I needed to, showered as often as I remembered to, but every other waking moment was spent drinking, and the rest of my time was spent either passed out or sleeping. There was a huge difference between the two.

I'd eat something when Jack would practically force me to, drink another beer, and go right back to sleep. Over and over, and it never stopped. It became normal to me, and I accepted it. I just never realized exactly how much time was passing for me.

What I considered to be days or weeks, turned out to be months, and many of them.

"Mama?" I flinched, groaning awake one night at my daughter's hesitant, sniffling little voice, "Mama, please wake up."

I groaned, and slowly rolled to look up at her in the dark. She stood there, a little taller than I remembered her being before, given her form in the darkness of the room.

"What is it?" I mumbled quietly, not wanting to wake Jack up. I felt her crawl into my side of the bed with me, and curled into my side. Her head rested on my chest. I could feel each of her trembling silent cries against my side.

"Mama.." She cried harder, and concerned, I held her as tight as I could. Her voice was even slightly different.

"Baby, what is it?" She didn't answer that question. She just needed to be held. I shushed her lightly, and she'd started to calm down.

"What is it?" I asked again.

"I'm so hungry, mama." She cried, and I sighed. Had I _not_ been trying to feed her ass? Then it began to occur to me. I hadn't been trying to feed her ass. I hadn't had practically any interaction with her at all.

"Have Jack make you something, baby." I told her, "Mommy's not feeling good."

"He won't, mama, please." She was so upset, her whispered tone so pleading, but I just shushed her again, "Mama, I hurt so much."

I assumed she meant her stomach. She was so upset, and she cried so much. I needed her to be quiet, but it was obviously too late.

"Hey." Jack groaned awake to my other side, "Get your ass out of here." Immediately, I felt her dart up, and listened to her scramble from the room.

"Make her something to eat, Jack." I muttered, "Please."

I heard him sigh, getting up. Leaving the room, slamming the door behind him. Somewhere further off in the house, she started to cry harder, but I was back to sleep before I even had a chance to wonder. Maybe my mind did it for me.

She wasn't there again when I rolled back over in the morning, so I assumed it'd been taken care of.

I couldn't keep this up.

I fought a war with myself that morning, just like I fought every other morning as I stared at the unopened bottle of beer sitting on the table within arms reach. I could not keep doing this. I needed to go another direction.

Seeing, feeling how much Leandra had grown the night before really shocked me. Had I really been out for that long? How much time had passed? What else did I miss? It was such a disorienting feeling, it took me a moment to move passed it. When I finally did, I could start planning.

I knew where Jack hid the extra money in his wallet each day. He kept just a little bit on him, and I knew I could pull from that. If I was quick about it. There wouldn't be much there. Not near enough to live on, but I had to do something.

Did I want to try this? Was I brave enough to try this? I had no choice. One last try.

So I stood up, though unsteady, and turned for the door. Stopping by the closet first to pack a light bag of extra clothes for me, and grabbed the money from the small wooden box on the very top shelf. Just over a hundred and twenty. I could make that stretch.

I brought my bag out once I was dressed, and set it to the side.

"Leandra," I called, "Baby, get some clothes together, okay? We're going somewhere."

I moved for the kitchen, quickly grabbing a grocery bag. I'd need something to sustain me for a bit.

I had no choice but to hope that Heather would take Leandra in for a little while. Just until I could find another option. I was prepared to find the nearest homeless shelter, just to get away from this place. Just leave it all behind, and start new, but I didn't want Leandra exposed to that sort of situation, so I had another plan for her.

So I packed just a few nonperishable foods, and double-bagged it. Setting it on the floor for me to grab on my way out. I considered calling Heather ahead of time, just so someone would be expecting me in case I didn't make it there, but decided against it. There was no time, and no doubt she'd want an explanation, but I couldn't give her one until I was standing in front of her.

Still no word from Leandra, so I decided to go in and check on her.

Leandra was there, laying on her bed her side as she looked to me. Eyes tired, and red from crying. For a moment, it surprised me to actually see her clearly. She had grown quite a bit, but it was who else that sat with her that terrified me. Seated on the floor, leaned back against the bed.

"Where are we going?" Jack asked casually, but I heard the subtle tone of anger there.

He was home? What the hell? Why wasn't he at work? Why was he sitting in here with her?

"I-I.." I didn't know what to say, still startled beyond speech for a moment. In my haze, I was still having trouble thinking straight, and it took me a moment to realize that he really was there. Think! I told myself, think!

How those blue eyes, once so admirable, could intimidate me so easily was beyond me.

"W-Well.. I-uh.." Convincing, Gina. I was scared beyond belief, and the way he slowly got to his feet really made that worse.

"Why are we gathering clothes, Gina?" He asked, casually once again but with a small shrug this time. He started forward, slowly stepping across the carpet. Giving me time to back out of the room, away from Leandra. He closed her door behind him, leaving just me and him out in the hall now.

I retreated from him, knowing full well he was pissed, and only getting more pissed at each passing second.

"Oh, and food?" He chuckled, gesturing to the bag on the floor, "The food that _I_ bought? You were just going to take off, and leave me here? How selfish can you be?"

"I-I was going to wait." I finally managed to speak up, "Until you got home."

"I see." He nodded a little.

"I wanted to take Leandra." I continued, "To see my brother. She's never met him before, and thought, why not?"

"Oh." He replied, his tone just a little easier, but no more comforting than it was before, "That makes sense." He stayed silent for a moment, nodding as he inspected me. Until he spoke again, "Why are you lying to me?"

"I'm not-"

"After how much work I've put into this place, and you're lying to me?" He asked, starting forward again, "Don't you trust me?"

"Jack, please-"

"Don't you think I deserve the truth?" He asked as I finally found my back up against the wall. He brought his hands up, and instinctively, I cringed back. Turning my head to the side, "I'm not stupid, Gina." His tone was soft, his hand turning my head forward again, so I looked up at him, "Why is it.. That every single time you're sober enough to think you're thinking straight, you want to run for it? When you have nowhere to go?"

"I can't keep this up, Jack." I admitted. Probably stupidly, "You're not good for me."

"See, that's where you're wrong." He replied with a quiet chuckle, "I'm the best you're ever going to get. There's nobody better for you, or for Leandra. You know this, but I can't help but notice how you're fighting that."

"I can't." I hated the lack of strength in my voice, "Jack, move. I'm going."

"You're not going anywhere." He found that funny, "I'm the fit parent now, Gina. Do you know how easy it is for a stepparent to adopt their stepkid? Just a couple of signatures on a form. Send it in, and bam. They're yours, _with_ legal rights. You take two unauthorized steps out that door, you lose everything. You'll stay. You'll stay here, and you'll stay your ass out of my way, or so help me, your daughter will feel it."

"No." He turned, and I looked behind him at Leandra's tiny cry in the hallway, "Leave my mama alone."

"Listen to you, you little shit." He chuckled at her, "If I were you, I'd be more worried about saving your own skin. Get your ass back in there."

She hesitated.

"Go on, baby." I told her, and she looked to me, "I'm okay. We're just talking."

"Talking?" She still seemed hesitant. Her gaze unsure.

"Yeah." I answered immediately, "It's okay. Go ahead." Thankfully, she believed me. Nodding a little as she turned. The second we heard her door shut, though, Jack grabbed a fist full of my hair and jerked my head back, pinning it against the wall with his other hand squeezing my face.

I tried to stay silent, but couldn't stop the hiss of pain and quiet whimper of fear from escaping me.

"I could have sworn," He growled now, no longer gentle, "That we covered this subject already. I could have _sworn_ I wouldn't have to tell you this a second time. Strike two, bitch. Don't fuck up again, and don't make me tell you this a third time. I'm done playing around."

I struggled the best I could, but he just held me firmer, "Jack-"

"Shut up." He snapped, "You don't get to talk this time. I'm talking. You take her anywhere outside this house, I'll kill you. You talk to her, I'll kill you. If you so much as look at her, I'll kill you. She's _mine_." He slammed my head back against the wall painfully, "Do we understand each other?"

I sobbed now as silently as I could, terrified in his hands.

"Remember what I told you." He continued, "Anything you get, she gets double."

"Please, Jack." I plead the best I could, "Don't do this."

"I'll do," He leaned closer, "Whatever the fuck I feel like doing. You could have been good, and you could have played by the rules, but you just couldn't help yourself, could you? You selfish, worthless whore."

"J-Jack-"

"_No_." We both jumped a little at Leandra suddenly there again, "Leave her alone!" She stood there, hanging off his left arm like a little ornament. Trying to budge his grip on my hair. He did loosen his grip, only to shove her away. She stumbled a little, but ran forward again.

He let me go to backhand her across the face. I reacted without thinking. Shoving him back, and rushing toward her. Kneeling beside where she lay bawling on the floor. Gently, I pulled her hands away from her face to take in the already bruising cheek and swelling eye.

"You _can't_ hit her like that!" I hardly recognized my own snarling voice as I looked to him again.

"Watch me!" His shout was a lot stronger than mine.

"You'll kill her." I snapped, standing back up, "Do you even realize how much smaller than you she is?"

"She's mine to kill." He replied simply, "Now move. Get your ass away from her."

"No." I replied, "No, Jack. I won't let you do this to her. She doesn't deserve it. You want to hit someone? Hit me, you sick bastard, but leave her out of it." I looked back down at her, smoothing her hair from her face. It killed me to see her this way.

I never even saw the punch coming. Only a brief flash of intense pain, before I lost consciousness.

**A/N: I hate this part. I hate it so much. :(**  
><strong>THANK YOU to those that reviewed, and I'm sorry this took so long. I had to rewrite the whole thing pretty much, and that took some time.<strong>  
><strong>Chapter six is a definite thing, but honestly, I'm not too sure exactly how long it'll be. So far, it's too long to include with this chapter, but not quite as long as previous chapters. Which leaves me in a dilemma. Oh well. Either way, I'm sure my readers will appreciate it.<strong>  
><strong>Until Six, my friends! :D  :(**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

I forced myself awake.

I couldn't afford blissful unconsciousness when I had more pressing issues. My daughter. My baby needed me awake. So against the pain, against overwhelming dizziness and nausea, I forced myself to blink my eyes open.

Leandra was silent now. Sitting in the arms of that animal, looking both fearful and defeated as she watched me struggle awake. The bruise blossoming across her beautiful face both hurt me and angered me. Deeply. If he wasn't holding her, I'd have run at him.

I realized I'd been moved into the kitchen. The way I laid, face down with my head turned and pressed to the cold kitchen floor, laying in probably a small pool of my own blood. I realized as I slowly and shakily pushed myself up, touching my hand to my face and pulling back crimson streaks on my fingers that I was right. What was I bleeding from?

"Well, good morning, lazy bitch." Jack finally barked, startling me, "About time you woke your ass up." How long had I been out?

I took a breath, "Leandra-"

"Not a fucking word from you." He cut that right off, "Remember? You're not allowed to talk to her anymore. I want you to pick your pathetic ass up off my floor, and go to bed. I'm sick of looking at you."

"P-Please-"

"You're fucking worthless, Gina. Worthless. A horrible wife, an even worse mother." His tone was sharp, cutting, "Get your ass up, and get the fuck out of my sight before you make me puke."

I managed to push myself up off the floor. With quite a bit of effort.

"Do you want round two?" Jack snapped when I hesitated, "Can you handle that, bitch?" Leandra in his arms whimpered at his sharp tone, looking to him nervously.

Anger attempted to briefly steal that instinctive fear I felt at just looking at him. Another instinct he was trying his hardest to take from me. I wanted to keep this anger, this heat boiling in my stomach. I hated this man, but I was just one person.

"Put her down, and we'll test that." I told him without thinking, "Big man, hiding behind a little girl. You're pathetic." He wasn't phased.

"You don't want me to put her down." He replied evenly, "I'm holding her for your protection. Not mine. After all, if I'm holding her, I can't exactly strangle you, can I?"

I scoffed, announcing my doubt, and his eyes narrowed.

"Bitch, you have five seconds." He warned.

"One." I started counting, and about three, he actually did set Leandra on the floor. Prompting the one thing that could break through to me right then.

"Mama." Leandra's unsure little voice paused everything for a moment. Her fear was the one thing that could get through the anger, but at the worst time possible.

I knew I couldn't keep pressing him like this when she was so scared.

"Leandra, go in your room, okay?" My voice was firm, but not from any strength I felt. It was firm through my own fear, "And stay in there. No matter what you hear." But in her worry, she stood still. Standing still as stone, not budging in the slightest.

God, she was just a baby. She didn't need this. Petrified in her fear.

Jack chuckled, obviously finding that amusing. I was so _sick_ of that sound. He turned, intending to pick her up again, but I moved forward.

He turned around again, just as I got there.

"What the fuck?" He asked, laughing a little as I shoved him, "Really? You want to play-"

I cut him off with a punch to his face. I'd never really been one to actually resort to violence, but Jack was changing that. I knew it. I was pushing him, tempting fate, but I had to try.

That only pissed him off, however. It was as if he never even felt the pain. Like it never even registered to him. He just grabbed a hold of my neck, and with more force than I'd used, spun me and slammed my head against the wall.

Surprisingly, that hurt less than his fist did. At very least I stayed conscious.

Being hit like that, however, hurts more than people like to mention. There's no way to accurately describe not only the pain of it, but the force behind the impact. Especially if there's anger or hatred fueling it.

The entire right side of my head erupted in pain, centered on the very spot I'd first hit the wall, and dragging and clawing its way outward through my head, and I was suddenly left confused about how I was on the floor before the loud thud even stopped echoing around me.

"My God, don't you ever learn?" Jack chuckled, squatting down beside me, "I've won. I won the second you met me, Gina. You're not helping her. You're only making it harder on her, and on yourself by resisting this. It'd be so much easier on both of you when you give up. You know this."

I glared at him as I weakly pushed myself up.

"Aww.." He reached out, gripping my face, "That's not a very becoming look for you, bitch."

My whispered tone wavered, and I knew he heard it.

"You might as well kill me now."

"In time." He replied, "But I want to keep you around. You serve a purpose, believe it or not. You really should have paid closer attention, Gina. You landed yourself in this mess." He gave a short, sharp laugh, "And just to prove my point.." I barely heard his voice through the ringing and spinning in my head. He stood up.

"Leandra. Get your ass out here." She must have run. I couldn't blame her. Threats and verbal arguing was one thing, but physical fighting like this had to scare her more.

"No." I managed to call out, "Stay there." I struggled to stand up with him, but only received a solid kick to my stomach that left me gasping, dropping me back down heavily.

"Leandra." He called again, sharper this time.

I listened to her come back while struggling to regain my breath, and that killed me. The slap I heard echo around me, and her sudden squealing cries start killed me worse. I knew that hadn't been nearly as hard as he could hit, and part of me felt glad he used restraint, but it killed me.

I'd been so strong just a few minutes ago. Where was that strength now? It bothered me just how easily he could still break me down, with hardly any effort. Her pain wounded me, and I knew that in Jack's mind, it was supposed to be that way.

I was starting to understand.

She'd still hurt, no matter what I did, but it would be worse for her if I continued fighting it. The only option I had was to do what Jack wanted, and hope he never took it too far.

I pushed myself up again with a quiet gasping sob. That realization hurt. My breath caught. Without him lifting a finger toward me, my breath had been knocked out of me yet again. Tears escaped at the thought. I looked down, trying to hide them.

I reached for Leandra, but adamantly this time, she shook her head, and Jack lifted her.

"Jesus, Gina, you just repel people." He chuckled, nearly laughing loudly, "No wonder Chris traded your ass in. No wonder Leandra doesn't like you anymore." I closed my eyes tighter at the pain the very thought of losing her that flowed through me, "Sounds like I'm doing the people in your life a favor."

I looked to her, and she returned my look. Seeming more confused than hurt anymore, though I could easily see the tears on her cheeks. One reaching her chin. The question in her eyes was clear, even if she didn't realize it.

Why wasn't I doing more?

"How's it feel?" Jack asked me, kneeling down again, "To be so alone?" I stayed quiet, so he continued.

"You know. You know, don't you? It's starting to stick in that empty head of yours. You lost."

"No." I denied.

"Even if you did get away, I'd just find you." He found it amusing, "No matter where you go, or how far you run, I'll always find you. I will find you, and paint every square goddamn inch of whatever shithole you found to hide in with your blood, and make this little bitch clean it up. Let me just say right now that you really don't want to test that fucking threat. I always come through. Always. You have no fucking choice."

The very thing that hurt the most, was that he was right. I had no choice.

I knew he was right. I was no good to her, and it hurt worse than the physical pain at that moment. The crushing weight of my emotions speared me to the spot, hardly able to breathe.

"Give up." His tone was softer, but still somehow steel, "Give it up."

Trying to be so strong was finally taking its toll on me, and I was helpless to fight against it. My eyes squeezed tight at the pain his words caused. The searing pain in my chest, now not only physical. My heart breaking was almost a physical feeling, shaking a sob from me.

I knew somewhere that hearing my cries was exactly what Jack wanted, but I couldn't stop myself. He knew he'd won, and no amount of fighting anymore would fix that. I panted heavily, trying to build up some sort of resistance to his words, some way to not let them effect me.

The problem was, words were never just words with Jack. Normally, words were only words, and whether or not they were true was up for debate. The things he said, however, were said with such truth, it was nearly impossible to deny. He believed every word he said, and he made damn sure I did too.

"I can't do this." I whispered inside, just focusing on the words making me cry harder. The physical pain I could take, I could just endure it, but this pain, the mental and emotional torture was just too much.

His tone softened again. Smooth now, melted butter, "You know you're not strong enough to fight me. You know you're not strong enough to fight for her. It'll only hurt her more. You're only hurting her, Gina."

"I'm not strong enough.." I whispered to myself, breathless in my emotion.

"What was that?" Jack asked, leaning closer, a grin on his face. I knew he heard what I said, but he wanted me to say it again. He wanted to confirm that he'd done what he'd set out to do. Breaking me down with nothing but words. Shoving, pushing me away from my own daughter with threats I knew full well he would come through on.

"I-I.." I whimpered, "I'm not strong enough.." I felt my body relax, rest limply beside him, and I knew I'd broken. I'd finally collapsed under the weight of trying to be so strong, of trying to resist him when I knew he was right. No matter what I did, nothing would help her now. The only thing that could help her, even in the slightest way, was by doing as he said.

I would stay where I was. I was crushed to the ground, right where he wanted me to be. His fingers brushed my hair from my face as I lowered my head, crying quietly.

"That's right." He grinned wider, "You're not. You're worthless, and weak." His voice was satisfied. Happy, "And you know I'm right. You see," He sighed, leaning closer, "Filling your own head with _lies _of strength, Gina, isn't the way to go. You know how worthless you are. You just needed a little reminding, is all." His voice was calm, almost loving as he told me these things.

He whispered now, "You have no use, you contribute nothing. A waste of air, and space. You only hurt those you supposedly care about. That ends now, right?"

I didn't reply.

"You know what I want you to do." He murmured after a moment, "Leandra will thank you in the long run. You're making the right choice."

I hated this. I hated this more than anything in the world. He was using her. Using her to push me in the direction that he wanted me to go.

"Get moving."

If I could have accurately hit him, I would have moved immediately for the knife drawer, but I couldn't risk hitting Leandra instead. I was positive he counted on that. Not that he couldn't overpower me instantly if I even thought about doing that.

He was so much stronger than me. In every sense of the word.

I couldn't even look at him anymore as I grabbed a beer from the fridge instead, pressed it gingerly to the side of my face, and headed for the bedroom. Defeated in my own way.

I looked myself over in the master bathroom mirror. I wasn't a pretty sight. Not at all.

The blood had come entirely from a split I'd gotten in the upper part of my forehead from his ring when he'd hit me. How he could hit that hard with his left hand spoke volumes about his strength. I could only imagine how much worse it would have been if he'd had hit me with his right.

I washed the blood away, and searched my own eyes, wondering how much further I could possibly go. I knew full well that the next time I tried anything like that, I wouldn't survive it.

What should I do now? What was there to do?

Chris was an option if I had a way of knowing where he was. As it was, I had no address. No phone number. Not even a hint of either one, and yet, even if I had known either one, I couldn't risk Jack killing him because of my stupidity and weakness.

Jack would die before he ever let him see her, considering how far he went to keep her from him.

I'd tried. I made the wrong decision, and I'd failed.

I stopped fighting it after awhile. I stopped feeling, stopped thinking. I gave up. I'd lost my fight. If this was the way Jack wanted it, I couldn't stop it.

He was too strong, and me? I was worthless.

I could feel it. The aching, tearing feeling of defeat in its own horrible entirety. There was nothing I could do. No right move to make. I was terrified, but I knew the second I tried to pull her from him again, I wouldn't survive it.

I wouldn't survive a third attempt, and yes. Truthfully, the thought of dying did scare me, but it was more of the fact that I knew he'd make Leandra watch it happen that made me hesitate. I couldn't do that to her.

Jack was a bear trap. One I'd stepped in long ago, and one I wasn't strong enough to free myself from. Jack was a trap door. A dead-end.

One beer turned to four, and I forgot all about the look, the question in Leandra's eyes, much less the guilt I should feel over it. Four turned to seven, and seven moved to ten, and that was it for me.

No more pain. The crushing grief I'd felt was a dull ache now, settled further in my heart where I could forget about it if I only stayed asleep. An echoing reminder, sore and steady, that could be ignored when I numbed myself enough.

I don't even remember continuing to drink this time. I just knew I stayed the way I was for quite sometime, though not as long as before. Days passed seamlessly into nights. Nights into days. There was no sense of time passing, only time difference each time I needed to be numbed again. When the pain would resurface enough to reach for another beer.

I complied. Gave up, gave in, and by doing so, gave away all I should have been.

Leandra did return to my side sometime one afternoon, once more begging me to wake up, but this time, I did my best to ignore her. I couldn't face what I'd done. I was fully convinced at that point that I could have been killed right where I laid, and not even minded.

Eventually, she gave up. She crawled up and laid behind me.

How did I end up here? Why couldn't I stop? My daughter, my entire world was laying behind me, and I couldn't even move enough to comfort her. How could I even dare to comfort her, when I didn't have a dream of comforting myself?

I had no doubts she was confused, but the amount of suffering I felt was more than enough to keep me reaching for more. More dreamless, emotionless sleep. The kind of wounding, crushing grief over what I knew would happen that kept a person crippled. Smashed, folded under its weight until they're no longer recognizable for who they were before. The kind of hopelessness that drove a person to drink.

I couldn't do it.

I woke briefly when Leandra climbed out of bed, scooting almost gingerly off the mattress, and left the room. Only to return moments later, setting something on the table in front of me. I squinted my eyes open long enough to see that she'd brought me a beer. That only wounded me further.

"Baby." I mumbled, forcing myself to sit up, "Why'd you bring me that?"

"Because Jack said so." She replied quietly, "He said.. He said that if you didn't have one, I had to bring you one. He said it'll make you happy, and I want you to be happy, mama, cause I miss you."

I sighed, shaking my head.

"Come here, baby." I sighed, scooting over. Making room for her to lay. She took the hint, laying down almost eagerly. Me spooned behind her as I held her to me.

I hated this. I missed this, but I hated this. The stabbing ache in my heart and in my mind. The pain I felt while holding her.

Holding her didn't bring any comfort. This wasn't comforting.

This was the calm after the devastating storm. Looking around at all the damage done, and what was left of the life you had before. Nothing recognizable left, and grieving for the way it was before. Knowing it was all different from here on.

My eyes welled with tears while I laid there, my arm around her. I could feel it and I knew she could too. This chapter was ending for us. No matter what we did now, it wouldn't fix a damn thing.

I'd felt this way before, with her father, but somehow, knowing I was letting her down and giving up so completely, it hurt so much worse than anything I'd ever felt before. I loved her so much, so much more than I even cared about myself, but this was one fight I really couldn't win.

I'd tried. I wouldn't survive a third try, I reminded myself.

I sobbed, crying and kissing the back of her head, but she never moved. She didn't say anything. I hoped, prayed one day she'd understand that it wasn't her I wanted to give up on. It wasn't her that made me this way. It was me, and my own choices.

"I love you, baby." I whispered to her, my voice trembling and heavy with emotion.

"I love you too, mama." She whimpered, and I know she didn't know why yet, but she cried too, and that hurt me even more. That she had to cry because of who I was, and who I wasn't strong enough to be for her.

"I'm so sorry." I murmured to her, "I'm so sorry, Leandra. I never, ever wanted you to get hurt. It's not fair. I know it's not fair, but it's the way it is. I love you so much."

"I'm scared, mommy."

God, the pain.

"Shh, baby. I know." I replied, "So am I. I am too."

I held her tighter, in just one last attempt to ease the pain and hopelessness I felt. Like just holding her this way would protect her for the rest of her life. Like just holding her this tight would shield her from knowing anything bad, or anyone like Jack even existed in the world. Knowing I wouldn't be there to dry her tears, or hold her or kiss her head, and I knew now that she understood that too.

"Are you leaving again, mama?"

My baby, my only child.

"Don't leave." She requested of me, "Don't leave me."

"I'll try." I replied softly, and I knew full well that was a lie, "Close your eyes now." I felt her nod.

I laid there for quite some time. Half asleep, half awake. Remembering clearly the night I first met my daughter. The night she was born. It had started just about like this. I was even laying in the same position as I was then, but now, instead of her safely in my tummy, we were two separate people. More than likely, with two very separate lives ahead of us. Crossroads.

How quickly a life could change left my head spinning.

I didn't know where hers would lead her, but I was sure that I wouldn't be part of it. No matter how much I wanted to be. She would go far. She had so much ahead of her. I knew she did. It was a feeling. An undeniable knowledge, but no matter where and how far she went, I needed her to know something.

"Let me tell you something." I whispered to her, and peered over at her closed eyes, "Baby, I love you more than anything in the world, and no matter what, I always will. No matter what he tells you, I will always love you. I'm so sorry I wasn't enough. I tried, and though you might not remember it when you're older, I only tried as hard as I did because I wanted more for you, but I think it might have hurt you more than it helped you." Her soft, even breathing told me she was still fast asleep.

"The moment you find an opportunity to get away," I continued in a gentle whisper, "I want you to take it. I know you'll find a way. You take that opportunity, and never ever stop. Don't stop, don't look back. You just go, baby. Never stop looking for happiness, because it's the most important thing in the world. Never settle for less than you deserve. Never settle for anything but the best, and never settle for anything but love. You'll know it when you find it."

She never stirred. I softly stroked her hair back from her forehead, and I settled down myself, crying myself to sleep as I held her to me.

I never made another attempt. Consumed in my guilt, shame and grief. Hiding from it, hiding from realitiy. Knowing each time consciousness tried to steal my focus, I could never do anything to change where I was or what was happening.

Somewhere in my mind, while I was asleep or wasted, I knew she needed me. She needed me so many times, but I just never woke up enough to be there for her. Something about the tone of her cries sent me further into unconsciousness, as if I never wanted to wake up again. Knowing she was crying, begging me to help her, and knowing it was my fault she was hurting so much, I couldn't face it. I wasn't strong enough.

Time moved on. Just like it always did.

I wasn't sure how long it took for her to stop coming to me. Each time I could focus enough to look at her, she was even more beautiful than the time before.

Growing older, bigger seemingly every day, but soon the pleading in her green eyes was replaced by shame. Disappointment and resentment. I couldn't blame her much, as I felt the same way about myself, but I could see the change of emotions as clear as day.

It was rare I got to speak to her much anymore, as she never made the effort, but sometimes, I did manage to. When I could focus enough one morning as she set the glass bottle beside me on the table, I managed one good effort with her. Fighting off the weight of my own habit long enough to try.

"Baby, wait." I forced myself to sit up, stopping her as she turned to leave. She turned, looking at me. Probably surprised I made an effort at all.

"What?" She asked, confused.

"I want to talk to you." It was so hard to keep my voice steady.

"I'm going to be late for school." She murmured.

"School?" I asked, "Since when?"

"Mom," She frowned, "I'm in third grade."

Had _that_ much time really passed? That certainly explained how much older she looked. During my hesitant confusion, she gave a glance around in the silence in the room.

"I really have to go." She told me after a moment, "I can't be late, or Jack will know. Don't drink too much today." I watched her leave, still confused as hell. She was just as confused, it seemed, as she glanced back at me during a pause in the bedroom doorway.

I wanted to tell her to stay just a minute, but I knew she couldn't. I just wanted a good look at her. To see how much she'd grown. To talk to her, and get to know her, but without another word, she left. Closing the door behind her.

I found that it also confused me how she treated me like nothing but a stranger. I know I'd been out of it for so long, but there had to be some part of her that remembered why I was like this. There had to be a part of her that remembered me. Who I used to be, not who I was now. I knew we both hated who I was now.

If there was some part of her that remembered who I was, she sure didn't show it or even give any indication. No emotion in her eyes that told me she did, nor a tone in her voice. I recalled all the other times I'd seen her. She hadn't been lying when she told me her age. I knew that, and it wasn't so hard to believe anymore.

Eight. Eight years old, and I didn't even know her anymore, so how was it so hard to believe that she didn't know me? I recalled that look in her eyes, and I was so clouded, but I couldn't help seeing the way she'd always treated me like a chore now. Instead of her mother.

I couldn't blame her. Not in the least, but it did hurt. The resentment, the silent accusation in her gaze. I couldn't blame her, but she did blame me.

Had she just forgotten everything? Or blocked it out? Had it been too traumatic for her to recall? Maybe she just assumed I didn't care anymore.

I wanted to take her advice, but it had become habit to drink too much, and I really wasn't sure I didn't want to anymore. So I kept that image, the look in her eyes in my mind as I kept on with my pattern.

Day after day. Over and over.

"I'm leaving now, mom." Though half awake, her voice still somewhat startled me as she set the bottle down on the table, "There are eight more in the fridge. I'll tell Jack you're getting low."

"Thanks, baby." I managed. My stomach was telling me it had had about enough.

"Do you need anything else before I go?"

"Anything to eat?" I asked, looking up at her. She seemed lost for a second.

"There isn't anything to eat here." She replied, "There never is. I can.. I don't know. Bring you the phone, so you can call Jack?" She shrugged a little, at a loss, "He'll bring you something."

"This is fine, baby." I needed something, and beer was the only thing. Just like always, I opened it.

"Okay." She sighed, "I have to go now, mom." Truthfully, I wasn't paying much attention. I just wanted to get back to sleep, so I took as many deep drinks as I could without it threatening to come back up.

"Yeah." I finally murmured.

"Don't drink too much today, mom." She told me, "I mean it."

"I won't." I laid back down, "I promise."

I was not doing too well today. I knew that easily. Before she'd even left the room this time, I was right back out. Thankfully.

"Gina." I hardly recognized the male voice coming to sit beside me, "Jesus." Where the hell had he come from? I hated when I passed out, rather than fell asleep. It always left me dazed.

My head was spinning, struggling to recognize the stranger beside me.

"How long has she been like this?"

"I don't know exactly." I recognized the female voice in the doorway even less, "Leandra never said."

The guy sitting with me sighed, and my wrist was taken, "Come on. Sit up."

He pulled me up with most of the effort on his part. I felt my cheek patted, and flinched. I was not a fan of that, but it got me to open my eyes and take the warm cup offered to me. Glancing up, I found I did recognize the man sitting with me. His longer, light brown hair fell into his eyes. He had lighter brown eyes than I had, inherited from our father.

I hadn't seen my brother in so long.

"Brian." I muttered, and he smiled sadly.

"Hi, sis." It was so corny, but that was him, "Drink that." He gestured to the cup, and I immediately took a sip. It tasted gross, as it was straight, black coffee but a pleasant change from the bitterness of the beer I'd been consuming for the last however-many years. Practically living on the stuff, this was different.

"Thank you." Brian looked back at the doorway, and I did too, "I didn't know it was this bad." I'd never seen the person in the doorway before. I studied her vaguely. She'd mentioned Leandra.

"You know my daughter?" I was fixated on that one detail as much as I could be.

"We've met." She confirmed.

"How is she?" I had to ask, even as my brother insisted on me drinking more coffee.

"I'm still working on figuring that out." She replied gently, "When I know, I'll let you know."

"Where is she?" I asked.

"She's at school." She answered, "I'll explain, but first, you need some more of that." She was probably right, "My name's Alice, by the way."

"Gina." I replied, "I wish we didn't have to meet like this, to be honest." I was ashamed. I didn't know who this stranger was, but I was slowly coming back around. I was beginning to realize that she'd been the one to call Brian. Connecting the dots.

"I agree." She admitted quietly.

"Gina." Brian spoke up as I took a few more sips of the coffee, "How did it get this bad? How long have you been like this?"

"I don't even know." I mumbled a sigh, shaking my head.

"Well, no offense, but you look like shit." He continued, "This needs to end. Now."

"I know." Surprisingly, I started to cry, "I know, but I just.." If only he knew this wasn't my choice. This habit had practically been forced on me, and though there was significant blame to be placed on me, I couldn't take it all.

I suddenly remembered, looking up, "No. Brian, you need to go."

"Go?" He frowned. He didn't understand. I needed to explain.

"If Jack comes back and catches you here-"

"Jack?" He asked, "Your husband?"

"Yes."

"Gina, is he the reason you're like this?" He asked, his eyes narrowing, "Did he stress you out that much?"

"It's not that." I sobbed now. I couldn't let my brother get dragged into this. This was my punishment, not his.

"She's right." Alice murmured, "We should get her to the hospital."

"Hospital?" It was my turn to be confused.

"From the look of you, you need fluids." She explained, "And quickly." Was that an option? Just leaving? Wasn't this how it was supposed to be until I died? It was slowly dawning on me that I had an opportunity here. I didn't know where it would take me, or what I'd wind up doing with it, but I had to decide now.

Eventually, I nodded a little. Setting the cup down shakily, Brian helped me stand up.

He helped me to Alice's car, surprisingly. He told me he'd meet us there, after he had a chance to pack some things for me. I didn't have much choice. I wasn't up to arguing, and speaking at all was a chore, but Alice seemed more than willing to give me a ride.

The first minute or so of the ride was silent. I didn't know what to say, and I was still very confused, but I had to try.

"I'm sorry about all this." I couldn't help it, "I don't even know you, and you're helping me out. Why?"

"Sometimes someone just needs a little boost now and then." She replied, "That's all it is. I'm more than happy to help if it means you'll get better for Leandra."

"How do you know her?" I had to ask again. That part was still confusing.

"Recently, yesterday actually, her class went on a field trip to the Forks High School." She explained, "I chose her for my group, and we got to talking. I offered her a ride to school this morning, and she might have let slip about your.. Condition, and I wanted to help you both out."

"That's awfully generous." I told her, "But I really don't deserve it, I'm afraid. I've been such a horrible mother."

"Everyone makes mistakes." She pointed out, and I had to laugh a little, "Some are just much bigger than others."

"You're sure a positive person." I laughed a little more, "It's a nice change."

"Thank you." She smiled. My own smile faded.

"How is she?" I asked again, "I mean, I know this might sound horrible, but.. I don't even really know her. Since this all started, it's been.. Difficult to catch up."

"She's quiet." Alice replied, "Very shy, and very withdrawn. She seems fearful of everything around her, but she won't say a word about why." I looked down. I knew exactly why, "Oh, but she's smart. Very intelligent. There's something else about her that makes her such a wonderful person, but I can't quite put my finger on it. Spirited? Sturdy."

I had to smile again.

"She really is a great kid." Alice offered, glancing over at me, "And from what I can tell, she's.. She's really very special."

"I had no doubts about that." I replied tiredly, "I just wish I could say she got all that from me." The drive continued in silence for a minute or two, but I soon understood that I couldn't let this opportunity pass for her. I needed to say something, as I had a pretty good feeling about where I'd be going.

I spoke up again.

"Alice," I murmured, and she glanced over, "You say you want to help her? I mean, do you _really_ want to help her? In the best way you ever possibly could?"

"Of course." She replied, and I heard the truth in those words.

"Then don't believe her."

I could immediately see her confusion. I sincerely hoped I wasn't about to ruin everything for her, but I had to get this out. I had to help in some way.

"Don't believe her." I repeated, "She's not fine, or okay. If she's as stubborn as I was, she'd have told you not to worry about her, but you see it, don't you? You know what I'm talking about. That's why you're here now."

The way she hesitated a few seconds confirmed my words, but she spoke anyway.

"I know something isn't right." She replied.

"And it isn't." I told her as she glanced back over at me briefly, "You and I both know that I won't be able to go back and get her. Not with where I'm sure I'm headed. Don't leave her there." I plead quietly, "Don't abandon her like I did."

"Oh, I don't plan to." She shook her head a little, "I'll keep visiting her. Don't worry about that."

"What I mean is.." I hesitated, "She's not.. She's not safe. She isn't safe in that house."

She stayed quiet for a few seconds until she asked, "Can I ask what makes you say that?"

"My husband." I answered, "His name is-"

"-Jack." She finished for me.

"Yes." I nodded.

"She mentioned him."

"Jack has been a threat to her since I've known him, but I didn't know that until it was too late for me to do anything about it." I explained, "I haven't been able to fix it. I'm not strong enough to fix it for her."

"How long has he been an issue?"

"Since she was about two." I replied, "Just a baby when he met her. Please don't leave her there. I don't know exactly what goes on, as I've been pretty out of it for quite some time, but I promise. I did try. I tried as hard as I could, but.. It wasn't enough."

Here I was, pouring my sob story to this near stranger so easily, and she wasn't even disgusted. She was intently listening, very interested. It was odd to just know that about someone.

"Is he abusive?"

"He was to me." I replied, "Very. Horribly abusive, but I can't say whether he still is to Leandra or not."

"Still?" She inquired.

"Why else would I try to leave?" I asked, "Yeah, he scared me pretty bad, but it wasn't so much myself that I cared about. It was her. I know he'd hit her a few times, but once was more than enough to prompt the first attempt. It's not until I'm about to leave him that he gets violent. Threaten to take Leandra, he completely loses his mind and all bets are off. I never did understand it, but he's so attached to her. You have to be careful about separating her from him. I don't know what he'll do."

She nodded, obviously in thought.

"He's dangerous, Alice." I continued, "You can't be caught with her. I wasn't even allowed to be with her."

She looked over, surprised.

"He banned me." I explained, quieter this time, "First, he only told me I wasn't allowed to leave with her, but after the second attempt, and he beat me unconscious, he banned me under the threat of death from seeing her or speaking to her. The only possible way to achieve that, was by drinking. Heavily drinking."

"I see." She murmured, concerned now. She was beginning to get the picture, clearly.

"I didn't know what else to do." I murmured, "I could have called the police, but who knows what he'd have done to us when he'd found out? And that's even if I got that far. It's a little more complicated than that, and I'm ashamed to say I complied, but I honestly didn't know what else to do."

"I'd like to know more." She assured me as we arrived at the hospital, "My father works here. He'll be the one looking you over. I'm sure he'd like to hear this, too."

"I'll agree to anything if you'll help her." I looked over at her, "But I'm begging. Don't leave her there. I'm not about to put anything passed him."

"I'll help her." She replied immediately. The truth in her tone undeniable, "Don't worry."

Aside from answering my own health questions, and repeatedly begging them not to inform Jack that I was here, I was silent until I was resting comfortably with a rather concerned nurse adjusting the IV bag beside me.

I'd met Dr. Cullen just about the second we got there, and Alice explained quietly to him that I had quite a bit of information on Leandra that he needed to hear. Apparently, both these people knew her.

Oddly enough, each passing minute with the IV, I felt more awake than I had in years. The nausea was clearing up, as was the splitting headache. I wouldn't dare say I was cured, but I had to look a little better, at least.

And so I spoke. I explained my side of everything, and my reasons behind my fear of my husband. I warned them again about Jack's personality, and what would piss him off the most, and that I had plenty reason to be worried.

They both listened intently, as if memorizing every word I said. They agreed with me, and promised that Leandra wouldn't be there for long, if at all.

Brian arrived just after lunch, and with his arrival, Alice informed me that she had to leave. She assured me, though, that I was in good hands now, and would more than likely excel at recovering.

I needed that. I needed her vote of confidence more than she knew. I doubted myself so very much at this point, I felt convinced that if it wasn't involuntary, I'd fail at breathing.

I was awake now, and could no longer hide from what Jack had made me into. How low he'd brought me. How much he'd taken. Stolen.

Even if I never saw my daughter again, all I ever wanted was to just know that she'd be okay. I just wanted her to be okay, no matter the cost, and if I could provide that by admitting everything to these people, I would. I couldn't take the chance that Leandra wouldn't recognize an opportunity. This was an opportunity. A chance she couldn't afford to let pass.

I knew full well it wouldn't make up for a damn thing I'd done in my life, letting her down to that degree, but it was hopefully a step in the right direction. Just one decision I'd made right.

Something told me I'd just made the right decision, but leaving her there with him scared me deeply. I wouldn't be able to go back myself until I had some sort of treatment, but that would be ten times harder by not knowing.

Nothing I ever did now would take the shame and guilt away, and I knew I deserved to feel every ounce of it over the choices I'd made, but I could only hope it was a start. I loved her. I'd loved her for her entire life, but she wouldn't see it that way, and that was understandable to me. I understood.

One thing I did learn was how much someone could love someone else. I never understood that, never even imagined there could possibly be this much emotion caused by one little person.

Until someone called me 'mommy', I never knew the overwhelming fear and love all balled into one solid stake-claiming almost painful place in my heart. Undeniable, but welcome all the same. That would always be there, no matter how long I lived.

Even if she never knew it, even if I never got the chance to tell her, that place would always be there. I might have lost who I was before so completely, but maybe, Leandra wouldn't have to. Maybe these strangers would make good on their promises. I had no choice but to hope.

No matter what, however, I would always charish the time I did get to spend with her.

**END**

**A/N: Well, this was an emotional one for me. :( **  
><strong>I'm sorry this took so long to get out. Had a little bit of trouble the last day or so, but I'm getting better.<strong>  
><strong>THANK YOU! To my BEAUTIFUL reviewers! I still say I need to figure out a way to send cookies to you. One of these days I'll figure it out. <strong>  
><strong>I'm partially glad I got this story finished. I doubted anyone would understand her side otherwise, and it's just a taste of how much information goes into getting to know a character. I know all my character's backgrounds, which honestly, is a lot of information to keep.<strong>  
><strong>I'm also partially sad I got this story finished. There's more I wanted to say, but it was only supposed to be a short story, so I did what I could in the space I allowed myself. <strong>  
><strong>As for my next project, I'm hesitantly considering 'Re-Vamp'ing my 'Gift' series. I hope that'd be as accepted as this was. :) I think it'd be fun to see how those stories can change.<strong>  
><strong>We'll see how it goes, but for now...<strong>  
><strong>Until then, my friends! :D<strong>


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